


Growing Old, With or Without You

by kireinayuta



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Angst, Angst and Feels, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Broken Engagement, Broken Promises, Crying, Eventual Fluff, Falling In Love, Getting Back Together, Heavy Angst, Implied Sexual Content, Kissing, M/M, Memory Loss, Mentioned Huang Ren Jun, Mentioned Zhong Chen Le, Moving In Together, Moving Out, Past Relationship(s), lots of crying :(
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-24
Updated: 2020-07-24
Packaged: 2021-03-04 17:34:47
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 54,745
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25490215
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kireinayuta/pseuds/kireinayuta
Summary: Six months after a four year relationship and a broken engagement, Jaemin wakes up in the hospital.Jeno thinks everything would've been easier if Jaemin didn't wake up at all.
Relationships: Lee Donghyuck | Haechan/Mark Lee, Lee Jeno/Na Jaemin
Comments: 28
Kudos: 406





	1. Chapter 1

It's not everyday that Jeno can say he gets a phone call. 

Even less often can he say it's a phone call from the local hospital. 

He debates whether he should even pick up, it could easily be a misdial? Plus, as far as Jeno knows, no one in his life is currently prone to landing themselves in the hospital, so he's weary about the number flashing across his phone screen. 

But he's also not an asshole either; this could very much be a worst case scenario for someone in his life, so he swipes right to answer. 

"Hello?" 

It's sunny today, when Jeno steps onto the balcony of his apartment. It's some place small, just a studio apartment, but Jeno's content with the living space. It's in the middle of the city, and his job pays well for him to be able to afford it. 

Jeno looks down at the cars driving on the streets below him, watches some people walking their dogs or sipping a cold drink. They look below him, like ants. 

It's a nice day, with a cool breeze and a complimentary sun.

"Is this Lee Jeno?"

His balcony has a few pots littered here and there, he's been growing plants. They're nothing special, just mint leaves and simple flowers, but they add a little bit of nature to his space, so he likes it. 

It's easy to decorate such a small space, but he prefers to leave the walls blank. That, and maybe he doesn't know what exactly to put up. He's never been good with the whole 'interior design' thing anyway. 

"Yes, this is he."

Jeno steps off of the balcony and back inside, the outside being too loud to have a proper phone call. He slides the glass door shut behind him, and makes his way to sit at his little circle table. It's probably only enough to seat three people comfortably, but Jeno doesn't really need more than that. 

He only ever keeps a mug and a jug of water on a circle tray on the table, preferring the minimalistic look. He's never been one for clutter, but sometimes when clutter was the intended 'look', he didn't mind. 

"Na Jaemin has been in an accident, and is currently undergoing surgery. You're listed as his emergency contact."

Sometimes, when it's late and night and there's nothing to do, Jeno thinks about how his life has been going. 

He's a law graduate, who earned his degree through blood, sweat and tears. He does have a soft spot towards animals though, always thinking about the zoology path. 

He has a nice group of friends, people he's kept with him since high school. They've formed a nice little circle, and now imagining life without them is almost impossible. 

It's easy to be grateful for what he has in life. He's earned some and then he's been given some, he’s lost some and then he’s been taken away some, and he's happy. Ever since he had reached the age where he understood ethics and gained an appreciation for everything, he's been happy. 

If Jeno was given the chance to change something in his life, he wouldn't know what it'd be. 

"Lee Jeno? Are you still there?"

He remembers moving in half a year ago. 

He remembers the help his friends had been, he remembers Renjun staying up with him trying to build IKEA furniture. He remembers Jisung and Chenle buying them pizza to eat after they helped unpack all of his things. 

It's only been six months since then, but why does it feel like an eternity? 

"Yeah, I am."

There was a time in his life where he thought it would be difficult to do things on his own. It wasn't that he wasn't independent, he liked to believe he was. His thinking was that it would just be harder to live life solo, after years of not doing that. 

But he finds solace in the quiet. And he thinks the silence sometimes helps clear his mind. It's not easy to think coherently when there's a million things happening at once, and sometimes in the early hours of the morning, Jeno appreciates being alone. 

"Are you able to make it? Unfortunately, no secondary contact has been attached."

It's not smart to only have one contact on your file, but Jeno knows that not everyone is as smart in the sense that he is. 

He hasn't been to the hospital in a long time. The last he's stepped foot into a hospital building was probably three years ago, when someone he knew had to undergo a surgery. 

_ Uncanny _ , he thinks, as he replays what the voice over the phone had said. 

"I'll be there. Thank you for calling."

Jeno isn't a mean person, he likes to think. He just knows what he wants and how to get it. 

He cuts distractions from his life and doesn't let anything unnecessary get in the way of his goals. It's a nice mindset to have, it sets his goals and priorities straight.

But it also makes him prone to slip ups. Because he doesn't know if his priorities are in check when he steps into his shoes and grabs his keys. 

Na Jaemin isn't a priority anymore.

»«

Jeno feels eerily steeled as he walks into the hospital, and he doesn't know how to feel about that. It's not like the other times he's been inside a hospital. This time there's no franticness in his movements, there's no blood pumping in his ears. His fingers aren't shaking and his breathing is pretty even. 

Whether or not it should or shouldn't be that way, Jeno makes his way to the receptionist desk calmly. 

"I'm here for Na Jaemin," he informs the nurse, who starts tapping away on her keyboard without a second to waste. 

The name feels foreign on his tongue, and Jeno thinks it's too soon for it to feel distant. 

But he's not complaining. 

"Mr. Na is still in the OR, located on the third floor, east hallway," she explains monotonously. 

Jeno nods and makes his way to the third floor silently, following the directory signs hanging from the ceiling until he makes it outside the operating room. 

He doesn't know why he expected to see Mark here too, maybe because he forgot that he's the only number listed on Jaemin's file. Jeno still can't believe Jaemin even put down his number over Mark's to begin with. 

He can't do much except wait, it's not like he can leave. He's going to get another phone call requesting his presence anyway, since no one has checked in to see if Na Jaemin's emergency contact had arrived. 

Ridiculous.

Jeno doesn't want to be his emergency contact.

He also knows better than to be the first person Jaemin sees when he's out of surgery. 

Admittedly, he still has a certain number, or a few numbers, but that doesn't matter, memorized and tucked into the back of his brain. 

Jeno doesn't want to be here, so he pulls his phone out of his pocket and dials the number which has been engraved into his mind, for better or for worse. 

It takes six rings before the line connects.

"Jeno?" 

Jeno presses his lips into a thin line. 

"Your brother is in the hospital. Third floor in the east wing."

Jeno hangs up right after, ignoring the protests and confused, alarmed voice through the speaker. Jeno doesn't want to answer, he doesn't even have the answers. He shouldn't even be in this position to begin with, but at least now he's able to change that. 

Jeno is about to turn around and walk back to where he parked his car, about to go home and erase this from happening, and forget about it. 

But of course, today just won't go his way, will it?

"Are you here for Na Jaemin?" 

It's a nurse who asks, and Jeno belatedly acknowledges that the voice is familiar. She's probably the one who called him. 

"No," he answers, monotone, as he always is when talking about this. "The person coming for him will be here shortly."

She looks confused, rightfully so, but Jeno doesn't pay her any mind. This shouldn't be his headache to deal with, there's a reason he left this all in the past. 

"Then who are you?"

Jeno is already making his way towards the end of the hallway, the sudden urge to leave this hospital overwhelming him. 

He pauses.

Who is he?

"Nobody." 

  
  
  


»«

  
  
  


It truly isn't hard to pretend like the last few days of his life hadn't happened. It's not hard to find distractions in his daily life, nor is it hard to drown himself in work and pretend to clean his already spotless apartment. 

But it's something, at the very least, something that can take his attention away from how his phone is constantly buzzing with incoming calls from one specific number. 

Jeno knew he should've tried harder to erase the nine digits from his brain, maybe then he wouldn't be getting fifty missed calls within the span of four hours. 

He thinks he has a right to be mad, but not really when he was the one who reached out in the first place. Jeno only reached out to Mark so that he didn't have to be a part of whatever happened, but it's on the fifth day of nonstop phone calls that he finally picks up. 

"What?" Jeno growls into the speaker, patience close to none as he waits for a response. 

It's almost silent on the other line, muffled at best, because Jeno still hears voices and the sound of someone breathing. He's about to hang up, but he receives an answer before he can. 

"Five fucking days? You don't get to go MIA after you dropped a bomb on me." 

"He's your problem to deal with, I'm sure the nurses have informed you of everything, and frankly, I don't care to know what happened," Jeno scoffs, not giving himself enough time to think before spitting his response back. Truthfully, Jeno doesn't know if he's being too... Abrupt? He isn't a stranger to Mark, nor is Mark a stranger to him, so maybe this was allowed? Then again, he didn't quite leave Mark with the best impression of him, but he also doesn't care about what Mark thinks of him. 

At least, not anymore. 

"He's not a  _ problem _ , you son of a bitch." 

Jeno doesn't remember Mark ever being so hostile with anyone, really. But he thinks Mark has reason to speak to him this foully, so he lets it go with clenched teeth. 

"Either way, he's yours to deal with, I have no part in this," Jeno states, final and firm as his thumb makes its way to tap the 'end call' button. 

Mark however, as Jeno had always known him to be, is full of surprises, isn't he? 

"He's asking for you."

And that just doesn't sound real. It doesn't sound like it could be happening, because it doesn't seem like reality. 

There's no way, because there just simply couldn't be a way. There's not a universe, anymore, where Jaemin would be asking for Jeno. 

Jeno laughs.

"That's funny."

"Do you think I want him to see you? I don't have a fucking choice when he's crying his eyes out because you're not here," Mark hisses, stirring up all kinds of unwanted feelings inside of Jeno's chest. Feelings of disdain and confusion. 

"What the hell? Tell him to get a grip," is what Jeno manages to spit out, eyebrows furrowing as he replays what Mark had said. 

It doesn't make any sense. 

It wouldn't be reality.

"Jeno, there's a serious fucking problem and whether you like it or not, you are involved. So get your stupid ass to the hospital now."

Mark doesn't give him time to answer, immediately hanging up as he's finished speaking. 

And Jeno doesn't have to go. He doesn't have to go back to the hospital, because Mark isn't in his life anymore, and he doesn't have to listen to Mark.

Truthfully, no one in that hospital is in his life, so he doesn't have to show up. 

But Mark had been right.

Whether he liked it or not, his conscience is guilt tripping him into heading out in similar fashion to the way he did five days prior, shoes on his feet and keys in his hand. 

  
  
  


»«

  
  
  


"Jeno-ya~"

Jeno can feel the hard gazes of Mark and Donghyuck boring into his skull from behind. 

He's here, regretfully, standing in the middle of the hospital room where he’s unwelcome, with Mark and Donghyuck making their way to the door to leave, and Jaemin staring up at him with sparkly eyes, tubes and bandages covering his body. 

"Where are you going?" Jeno hisses to the other two, glaring at Donghyuck when he turns around and crosses his arms over his chest.

"You think I want to leave him with you? He asked for some alone time so suck it up and stop being a bitch," he spits, venomous as he drags Mark out right after. 

Jeno kind of wants to kick something, but before he can expel his anger onto the trashcan in the corner of his eye, Jaemin is speaking up. 

"Duckie was mean," he sighs, and Jeno alarmingly realizes that he doesn't have to look at the other to know he's pouting. "Jeno, baby come here. Why are you so far away?" Jaemin whines, and it makes his ears bleed. 

"What's wrong with you?" He finds himself asking, remaining unmoving with his hands on his hips. He doesn't understand where Jaemin is coming from, much less why Donghyuck and Mark had left him in a room alone with him. 

"What do you mean?" Jaemin asks, petulant pout still on his lips. "You're the one who hasn't visited since I woke up. I missed you Jeno-ya, why didn't you come see me?" 

Jeno kind of wants to rip his hair out.

Everything leaving Jaemin's mouth is bullshit, and none of it makes any sense. He sounds hysterical to Jeno's ears, and he kind of wants to smack Jaemin's head to get the blood flowing properly, but decides against it when he notices the bandages wrapped around his head. 

"You're out of your damn mind Jaemin, we—"

Before Jeno can finish what he was saying, the door of the room opens again, and in comes Donghyuck and Mark, followed by a doctor. 

Jeno  _ really _ doesn't want to be here.

"Ah, you must be the fiancé," the doctor greets kindly, smiling brightly at the sight of him. 

Jeno's eyes widen, and his heart feels like it stopped beating in his chest. 

He's  _ what  _ now? 

"The what?" Jeno shrieks, breath picking up with something between anger and frustration, but is probably equal parts both of those things. 

Instead of answering Jeno, the doctor simply asks him to follow him outside. 

Jeno is more than willing to leave the room. 

"But he just got here!" Jaemin protests, sounding disgruntled. 

"I just need to have a few words with him, Jaemin-ssi," she says kindly. "I promise I won't keep him too long."

"You'll be fine," Donghyuck grunts, shooting Jeno another uncalled for glare. Or maybe it was called for, just probably not in this context. "Don't stress yourself out Jaeminnie, it's not good for your vitals." 

Jeno is being led outside by the doctor after that, and he gratefully takes in the air, albeit sterile, but it's better than whatever weird atmosphere was inside the room. 

"So, your fiancé—"

Jeno feels a bit bad, cutting her off, but if he has to hear her refer to him as Jaemin's fiancé one more time, he'll lose his mind. 

"I'm not his fiancé," he states, firm and unwavering, because it's the truth. 

It's nothing far from the truth. 

"Hm? But Jaemin-ssi kept going on and on about how his fiancé hadn't shown up. Are you not his emergency contact?" 

Jeno's nostrils flare up in frustration, but he wills himself to keep it to himself. The hospital is the least appropriate spot to blow up, much less at a doctor who seems just as confused as he is. 

"I am. But it's a mistake. We were engaged but we broke up months ago, I don't know what's going on in his head," he explains, tone clipped because he doesn't want to talk about this. It's enervating, and Jeno wants nothing more than to just go home and water his plants. Maybe ask Jisung to come over. 

Instead, he has to watch as realization dawns over the doctor, and how her lips purse out at the sight of him. 

"Right. That makes a bit more sense," she mutters, staring him up and down. "Explains the reactions of his friends." 

"Look, whatever happened, it really isn't my business anymore, alright? I'll just head off now."

"It is your business, Jeno-ssi," she counters, looking conflicted. 

Jeno was about to ask how exactly it could be his problem, when he isn't even a part of Jaemin's life anymore. He has no role anymore, and all he wants is to leave this behind him. But before he can even open his mouth, the doctor is continuing. 

"Jaemin-ssi is suffering from memory loss. He only seems to remember up until his brother Mark's birthday in 2018." 

Jeno feels the breath get knocked out of him. 

Since he doesn't say anything, the doctor continues. 

"He got into a car accident, the memory loss can come from his brain choosing to forget something traumatic or extremely stressful that's happened on impact. It's short term, it is possible for him to regain his memories, but it seems like it's a rather large part of his life he can't seem to remember." 

If the last thing he remembers is Mark's 25th birthday, then Jaemin doesn't remember anything after...

After getting engaged. 

Jeno had proposed a week before Mark's birthday, which entails that Jaemin doesn't remember the falling out of their relationship. 

Jaemin thinks they're still engaged. That they live together. Jaemin thinks that Jeno still works his intern job and that he still probably volunteers at the floral shop. 

Jaemin doesn't know that they're broken up, living separately, that Jeno had gotten promoted and that he stopped volunteering at the floral shop after the owner had passed away. 

"I still don't know what that has to do with me," Jeno says, despite knowing full well that he was involved. Maybe speaking it out of his own mouth was going to make it too real, and maybe if he didn't acknowledge it, it'll all go away. 

Maybe he'll wake up tomorrow, and this would've all been a nightmare. 

"The patient will suffer if he's suddenly being told that everything he thinks is happening, isn't," she explains calmly, but Jeno can see the slight irritation in her eyes. 

"So you want me to help him live in the past? Things aren't the same anymore," he insists. It's not hard to say, things are extremely different. Both of their lifestyles are totally different now, after four years of adapting to each other, going solo is a one-eighty change. 

"Not live in the past, per se, but help with slowly,  _ very slowly _ , easing the patient into gaining their memories back. After seeing such familiar mannerisms and behaviours, it's likely things will start coming back to him."

Jeno understands the doctor’s words, he processes it all too. What he doesn't understand is why his life is so fucked up, to the point where he's found himself in this situation.

He'd rather be anywhere but here, hands tied because it doesn't seem like he has a choice. 

Jeno could leave. He could leave and never look back because he doesn't care about Jaemin like that anymore. He didn't have to do anything for him, he didn't have to play a part just for him. 

But Jeno never found it in himself to put someone else in harm's way for his own selfish reasons. Jaemin is vulnerable, annoyingly, because he doesn't know what's happening in the present time. He's backlogged two years, and things just happen to be drastically different now. 

And it's not only Jaemin who's affected, now Jeno has to go back to living like he did two years ago. In a house with Jaemin, with a ring on his finger and drool on his pillow. 

He doesn't drool anymore.

  
  
  


»«

  
  
  


"Jeno-ya, where are the cats?"

How was Jeno supposed to tell Jaemin that the cats are thirty miles away? That they're in his apartment, because he's the one who wanted to adopt them anyway. He wouldn't have let Jaemin keep Seol, Bongshik and Nal, not when Jaemin was the one who always forgot to clean up their shedding. 

"The vet," he lies, the words slipping out easy, like butter rolling off the tongue. 

He wonders when it got too easy, lying to Jaemin. 

But then he remembers the last few months of their relationship, and yeah, maybe that's where he practiced all of his lies. 

"What're they doing at the vet?" Jaemin gasps, scandalized, and Jeno has to remember that this Jaemin isn't pretending like he doesn't know. This Jaemin isn't sarcastic, and this Jaemin isn't pulling his ear. Because this Jaemin doesn't know anything about what's going on, he's living in the past.

This is the Jaemin he's still engaged to. 

This is the Jaemin who thinks he's in love with Jeno. 

"Don't you remember?" He taunts, a cruel play of words which he can't help but let slip past his lips. He smiles, it's so forced, but Jaemin is looking at him with those wide puppy eyes, curious and concerned, which means he falls for it. Internally, Jeno scoffs. Does Jaemin not even pay enough attention to him to remember his smile? "They all got sick."

"All of them?" Jaemin asks, eyes wide and the corners of his lips turned down. 

Jeno doesn't remember when Jaemin started caring. He can't even remember if he was this caring two years ago.

"Yeah, all of them," he grunts, waiting for Jaemin to walk further into the house, because as much as the house looks familiar, it's unfamiliar. 

The photo frames, some of them are taken down. Jeno doesn't know why there's still the pictures from some of their first dates, some of their first anniversaries. Other pictures, like their engagement rings and their third year anniversary photo are taken down. The pictures that Jaemin himself had taken of Jeno aren't there anymore either, and when Jeno closes his eyes for a second, he can see the black frame which holds a photo of him in a green sweater against white flowers. 

When he opens them, it's a blank space on the wall. 

"Jeno, where did all the pictures go?" Jaemin asks, and for some reason, some godforsaken reason, Jeno knows he's pouting without even looking at him. 

He's horrified when Jaemin turns around, when he sees a petulant pout on his face. 

"You took them down for dusting," he lies, walking past Jaemin and into the kitchen. 

The kitchen, that looks like a mess. Not in the sense that there's a mountain of dirty dishes in the sink, but in the sense that the clean dishes aren't put away. There isn't a little tray with a pitcher of water and two glasses anymore. Jeno vaguely remembers that it's something he had insisted on, Jaemin never drank enough water in a day for the system to be useful. 

There isn't a vase on the island anymore; no more flowers. There used to constantly be flowers, new ones always replacing the dead ones. Jaemin would try to take good care of them, but he could never keep them for long. 

And just to irk Jeno even more, there's no wine bottles displayed on top of the cabinets. 

How much had Jaemin hated him to remove wine bottles? 

"Well let's put them back up!" 

Jaemin's voice breaks Jeno out of his trance, turning to look at where the younger boy is standing. He looks excited to put the photos back up, and Jeno wonders what he looked like when he took them down. 

Maybe Jeno didn't want to take them when he moved out because he didn't want to be the one to take them down, but for, he won't think like that. 

For now, he just nods his head silently at Jaemin, whose smile widens, if that's even possible. 

It is possible, actually. 

Jeno remembers a smile one thousand times bigger than this one, July 26th of 2018. 

But he pushes that thought away, when Jaemin furrows his eyebrows. 

"I don't remember where I put them though?" He mumbles, more to himself than to Jeno, but the latter hears it anyway. He kind of wants to tell Jaemin that there's more he doesn't remember than just where he put the photo frames, but he won't say anything yet.

As much as Jeno would rather be anywhere but somewhere alone with Jaemin, he wouldn't do something as detrimental as tell Jaemin the truth when he wasn't ready to hear it. 

The doctor had told Jeno, Mark and Donghyuck that Jaemin's memory will come back to him when it wants to, when his mind is less traumatized and when the shock factor won't be as intense and scary anymore. 

Jeno can only hope it happens soon. 

"Check the storage room," Jeno says, clearing his throat right after. 

It's not actually a storage room, it's a closet in the office bedroom which they've dumped all their miscellaneous things in, and he hates how he remembers. 

Below the surface though, something about Jaemin putting their pictures where their junk is stored doesn't sit right with him. 

"Why are they in there? They're precious!" Jaemin exclaims, exasperated, and Jeno guesses it doesn't sit well with him either. 

At least, with this Jaemin. 

Present Jaemin probably had no problem dumping their pictures in the storage room. 

Jeno doesn’t know how much time he spent thinking about what was going on in Jaemin's head, or the Jaemin who had taken the photos down, but the next time he’s aware, he’s watching Jaemin walk towards him with a big box filled with their pictures.

Couples photos.

Solo pictures. 

Pictures of the cats, of flowers, of everything. 

“Jeno, get the nails. You’re Mr. Handy Man, remember?” Jaemin smiles, putting them box down in the hallway.

Jeno sighs, but makes his way towards where he last remembers the tool box to be, and feels something weird stir in his chest when his guess is right. 

Nonetheless, he doesn’t dwell any longer as he takes the box out, hammering new nails into the old holes. Jaemin should’ve drywalled the walls after taking the nails out, but he guesses it's okay since it makes this part easier. 

They work in silence, kind of, if Jeno ignores Jaemin’s humming. He’s not sure if the quiet is welcomed though, because it leaves him alone with his thoughts.

Thoughts on how the house still smells like lavender and almond blossom, as it was Jeno’s favourite air freshener. 

Thoughts on how the key hanging board was still the one that has their initials carved into them. 

Thoughts on how he can see a folded piece of 8 ½ by 11 inch white paper on the fireplace shelf.

His eyes linger on the folded paper for longer than necessary. 

Why does Jaemin still have that? 

The more he looks at it, the more he remembers the night it was made. 

It’s nothing special, it's a messy pen and sloppy handwriting on a piece of printer paper, but Jeno remembers how Jaemin’s eyes lit up at the finished product. 

How he gave it to Jeno with a sparkling smile, cheeks flushed red from all the alcohol he had. His hair was blond at the time, falling into his eyes as he explained what was on the paper through hiccups. 

Jeno remembers his heart melting when Jaemin explained what he had written. 

Now, as Jeno looks at the handwritten wedding invitation, he wants to rip it to shreds. 

“Hm? What’re you looking at?”

Jaemin’s voice, once again, breaks him out of his reverie. He looks over, and for a split second, he sees blond hair, wide eyes, a sparkling smile and rosy cheeks. 

All he has to do is blink once, and he sees blue hair, confused eyes, a lopsided smile and pale cheeks. 

Nothing is the same. 

“Oh, the wedding invite?” Jaemin asks amusedly, catching where Jeno’s eyes had been locked. “It’s cute, isn’t it? Mister and Mister Lee,” he sighs dreamily, not noticing the stoic expression that makes its way onto Jeno’s face. 

The names sound like poison in the air, like if he were to inhale and accept them, it’d be the end. What it’d be the end of, he isn’t too sure. 

Jeno doesn’t say anything, he doesn’t think he’s said more than twenty words since he’s stepped foot into what used to be his home. 

Everything is just... Weird. 

And he hates it. 

This isn’t his studio apartment with three cats walking around, with plants on the balcony and open walls everywhere. 

This is a two story house with a staircase, memories and Jaemin. 

And he doesn’t want any of it. 

He finishes hammering the rest of the nails into the wall silently, letting Jaemin hum his tune without thinking much of it. 

Maybe, if he pretends like Jaemin isn’t here, he wouldn’t have to acknowledge that he’s standing in the house he used to pay half the mortgage of. 

“Why did I take so many down?” He hears Jaemin mumble to himself. 

Jeno sighs, returning the tool box to where he had found it. When he comes back to the hallway, Jaemin is putting up the frames, and when he sees Jaemin put a picture of Jeno with Seol and Bongshik between a picture of baby’s breath and a picture of Jaemin, he speaks before he can stop himself. 

“That one doesn’t go there,” he says, startling Jaemin. Probably with how he’s finally spoken, but Jeno doesn’t pay that much mind. Instead, he makes his way over to where Jaemin is, taking the picture frame from his hands and putting it in its rightful place, next to a picture of Jaemin under the rain. 

He gulps when his eyes land on the photo, black and white and insanely detailed, and tears his gaze away as he hooks the picture up, cursing himself mentally for remembering the details of this house, down to where each photo was hanged on the wall. 

Maybe it’s like a memory jog. 

He pushed everything to the back of his head when he moved out, tried to forget everything about the life he wanted to leave behind. But maybe it wasn’t enough to just push his years worth of memories to the back burner, which is why they’ve resurfaced with the tiniest sight of things from the past. 

Like the multiple nights he walked into this exact hallway late at night after a shift at work, walking past the pictures hanging without a second glance. 

This time, he gives it more than a glance. 

This time, he stares at the pictures, fragments of time captured into single, still shots. Memories, of either large or small significance. 

But there’s one thing they all have in common. 

All the photos, every single picture displayed in a frame, tells their story. 

Jeno doesn’t know if it’s because of time or ignorance, but he finds that he can’t read their story anymore. 

Maybe it’s because he doesn’t want a story with Na Jaemin anymore. 

  
  
  


»«

  
  
  


“Where are you going?” 

Jeno curses in his head, wanting to have left before Jaemin could come out of the shower. He also doesn’t have an excuse to give Jaemin, he couldn’t just say  _ ‘Oh, I have to go back to my apartment because my life is actually within those confinements and not next to you’. _

Well, he could.

It just isn’t advised. 

So, he settles on the next best excuse. 

“I’m going to pick up the cats,” he mumbles, slipping into his shoes and taking his keys off the hanging board. Jeno feels nauseous at how familiar the action is. 

“Can I come?” Jaemin asks excitedly, eyes bright with wonder, like a child going to the mall for the first time. 

But he can’t come. Because Jeno isn’t actually going to the vet, he’s going to his home. 

Home isn’t here. 

“You stay here,” he says, turning his back to Jaemin as he twists the front door knob open. Before he can make it two steps out the door though, Jaemin tugs on his jacket sleeve. Jeno has to take a deep breath in to will himself not to snap immediately when he turns back around. “What?”

“Don’t take too long,” Jaemin says softly, a small smile tugging at his lips. “Sleeping in a hospital bed for a month without your arms was torture, Jeno-ya.” 

_ Then how did you survive six months?  _

With a jerky nod, Jeno slips out the door, leaving it unlocked, not because he doesn’t have a habit of locking the door behind him, but because he literally can’t. 

He doesn’t even remember what he did with his key to this house. 

Jeno steps into his car, turning on the ignition and driving just outside of the neighbourhood and out of Jaemin’s sight before stopping on the side of the road. 

He takes a shaky breath, fingers curling around the steering wheel. His knuckles are white, and his hands are shaking when he finally opens his eyes again. 

In a fit of anger, Jeno slams a fist down on the wheel. 

“I hate you!” He screams, to no one particular, maybe someone in particular, releasing a gasping breath, not knowing he held so much anger in his system. 

It takes him ten minutes to relax fully, back to a headspace where he can drive safely. Once he’s back on the road, he makes the decision to tell Jaemin that the cats needed to stay at the vets for a little longer, not wanting to deal with the hassle of bringing them in their crates, along with their food and litter boxes. It’s too late at night for that, he can bring them to Jaemin’s house another time. 

For now though, he’ll simply head home to feed them, and pack a few clothes and toiletries in a bag. 

He feels defeated when he concludes that he’s staying the night at Jaemin’s house, because knowing the younger, he’d call the police if Jeno didn’t show up tonight without an explanation. 

_ Knowing him. _

Jeno wishes he didn’t know him, but this is another part of his memory he guesses he didn’t try hard enough to repress. 

Now, he’s dealing with the repercussions of knowing the tiniest tidbits and details for someone he wishes he could erase from his life. 

He sighs for the nth time today, feeling just a bit of familiarity as he parks in his designated parking spot, taking the elevator up to his apartment. 

It’s familiar, when he unlocks the door with his key. 

It’s familiar, when Seol, Nal and Bongshik come up at his legs. 

It’s familiar, when Jeno spots the open walls. 

This is home. 

So why is it easy to leave after feeding the cats and packing a bag?

He doesn’t dwell on the question for too long, petting each cat and kissing their heads before he leaves again, sure to leave their food and water out. If they made a mess, he’ll gladly clean it up. There’s not much else he could do for them right now anyway. 

He had only brought enough clothes for one night and the next day, not planning on staying longer than that. Maybe Jeno could tell Jaemin he had a business trip or something like that, something that he’d buy and leave Jeno alone for. 

He’s been by Jaemin’s side for the past month, since he’s been informed of what happened on  _ that _ day in the hospital. As much as he doesn’t want to be glued to Jaemin all the time, no one seems to be giving him a choice. It also doesn’t seem like he has another option, given how Jaemin would throw a fit every time he wasn’t around. 

Jeno doesn’t remember Jaemin ever being this clingy, but he guesses the after effects of the accident could be reason enough. He doesn’t know, anyway, so he doesn’t think he’s in a position to judge. Doesn’t mean he can’t hold distaste towards the scenario though. 

It’s with great power that Jeno drives himself back to Jaemin’s house, and not somewhere like Renjun’s or Chenle’s, where he could drink away the sorrows the last month had brought him. He had told his friends about his great misfortune, but they all seemed to be in the same boat as everyone else involved; Jeno didn’t seem to have a choice. It was either the nurse who convinced, his sub-conscience guilt who made him stay, or maybe it was how even a year ago, he would’ve done anything for Mark. 

He doesn’t think about it for too long. 

Soon, he finds himself parked in Jaemin’s driveway again, stepping out of the vehicle and tossing his bag over his shoulder. He makes it to the front door, about to key himself in, until he remembers that he doesn’t have a key to the house.

Anymore. 

He doesn’t have a key anymore. 

So he sighs again, and rings the doorbell. It doesn’t take more than three seconds for the door to open, and Jaemin’s briefly worried face is replaced with one of happiness.

“There you are, you took a while,” he chastises lightly, pulling Jeno in with a hand on his arm. 

Jeno doesn’t know how Jaemin managed to go this long without touching him, but when Jaemin’s hand makes contact with his arm, Jeno feels like he’s gotten burned. 

It’s hot, unbearably so, stinging and painful. 

Like a reminder of the hundreds and thousands of times he’s done this before, like a distant memory of the times Jaemin had placed a hand on him without a second thought. 

He does it now without a second thought too.

The difference now is that Jeno doesn’t accept it without a second thought. 

“Where are the cats?”

It’s the second time Jaemin had asked this question today, but it’s the first time Jeno has an answer prepared. 

“They have to stay for a bit longer. Checkups and stuff,” he says, refusing to look at Jaemin’s eyes. 

“Oh,” he pouts, hand never letting go of Jeno’s arm. “Do you know when they’ll be able to come home?”

Jeno wants to say that they’re already home, already content and happy within the four walls of his studio apartment, but he bites his tongue. 

“Few days,” is all he says. 

“Hm, okay. Are you hungry? I can make you something before we go to sleep.”

_ We _ .

Before we go to sleep. 

Does he have to sleep in the same bed as Jaemin? 

  
  
  


»«

  
  
  


Jeno ends up saying he is hungry, solely because he is, and not because his sub-conscience wants to eat Jaemin's cooking. 

It's not like he misses the taste of Jaemin's fried rice on his tongue, because he doesn't. It's not like he misses being able to have a perfectly cooked egg because he's incapable of making one that doesn't stick to the pan, because it isn't. And it most certainly isn't because Jaemin arranges his rice in the shape of a cat head. Most definitely not. 

And with all of this true, he doesn't know why he freezes, upon seeing Jaemin play around with the rice, shaping it into a cat's head. Why he freezes, upon seeing Jaemin crack an egg with one hand into a frying pan, flipping it with ease. Why he freezes, upon seeing the plate of fried rice Jaemin sets down in front of him. 

Why does it make him feel guilty? 

Why does he feel guilty as he watches Jaemin sit down in front of him, the same way he has thousands of times before, at this very dining table? Its aging cherry wood, the matching wood chairs, the knitted place mats. 

"Eat well, Jeno-ya," 

Maybe it's because Jaemin's voice doesn't get any less sickeningly sweet. Maybe it's because honey coated sugar bleeds into Jeno's ears whenever the younger speaks, as if they didn't break up in the first place. 

Maybe it's just because Jaemin doesn't remember. 

Perhaps it's just as simple as Jaemin not being able to remember how much he dislikes him, that makes Jeno feel guilty for eating the food he graciously prepared for him.

Jaemin once said that the greatest way you could show your love for someone was making them a home cooked meal. 

It's those words which repeat themselves over and over again in Jeno's head like a mantra as he eats spoonful after spoonful, each bite getting harder to swallow. 

"You eat well," Jaemin comments, chin perched on his hand as he watches Jeno. "Is it good?"

Jeno nods, just so that he wouldn't have to verbally answer, and feels a weight lift off of his shoulders when he realizes his bowl is empty. If it were the past, Jeno wouldn't feel burdened, eating food Jaemin has cooked. 

"You can go wash up, honey, I'll clean up," Jaemin says, snatching the bowl up in front of Jeno, who's frozen in place. 

_ Honey _ .

Jaemin's favourite thing to call Jeno is honey. 

Instantly, like a tsunami, hundreds of flashbacks attack Jeno's mind, ranging from his first kiss with Jaemin to his last. From the first meal they shared to their last. From their night in this home to their last. 

_ Honey _ .

_ “Honey, I'm home!” _

_ “Honey, could you wash the dishes for me?” _

_ “I love you honey! Have a good day!” _

_ “Honey, what's wrong?” _

_ “Honey... Do you not love me anymore?” _

"Honey?"

Jeno gulps, and it feels like swallowing needles. Thousands of pricks which pain him as he looks up at Jaemin, who's tilting his head to the side confusedly. 

"I'll go wash up," he croaks, hastily standing up from the table. He pushes his chair in, a habit because Jaemin hates it when he doesn't, and makes his way to the bathroom in the main hallway. Maybe Jaemin looks at him weirdly for going to the bathroom that wasn't in the master bedroom,  _ their bedroom _ , but he can't bring himself to step into the confinements of those four walls just yet. 

Not when his mind is muddled with memories of him and Jaemin. 

Their days spent together, nights spent wrapped up in each other's arms. Their car rides to the grocery store, walks on the beach and bike rides in the park. Convenience store ramen when they were still students, Italian pasta when they both had real jobs. Curtain fabric swatches that were laying around when Jaemin got his first client as an interior designer, restless nights when Jeno got his first client as a lawyer. Beer from the grocery store with fried chicken on cram nights, expensive wine and premium meat when they both got home at the same time. 

Days spent alone, nights spent on the couch. Bus rides to the grocery store, walks alone on the beach, bike rides to clear his mind. Convenience store ramen when Jaemin left without cooking dinner, Italian pasta when he wanted to apologize. Curtain fabric swatches laying around when Jaemin wanted to drown himself in work and ignore Jeno, restless nights when Jeno tried to look through a case to distract himself from Jaemin on his mind. Beer from the grocery store with fried chicken when he wanted to forget who was living with him under this very roof, expensive wine and premium meat when his friends took him out to eat to make him feel better. 

Jaemin is the one who lost his memories, so why is Jeno the one who's getting them all back?

Jaemin is the one who lost his memories, so why is Jeno the one who's being forced to remember what they used to be like?

Jaemin is the one who lost his memories, so why... Why is Jeno the one who's hurting? 

  
  


»«

  
  


Jeno walks into what used to be his shared bedroom with Jaemin, to see the latter already under the covers, scrolling through his phone idly. 

He hasn't seen this room in over six months, and as he takes in what it looks like now, he hates how familiar it is. 

The bedside tables, Jaemin's table decorated with photo frames and wires for his phone and laptop. Jeno's, a photo of them holding hands with their engagement rings on. Black and white, five inches by three inches. When he sees a tray with a water jug and glass of water, he winces. 

_ So that's why there wasn't one in the kitchen.  _

Across from the bed,  _ the same bed _ , three portraits. 

One of Jaemin, with a flower up to his face, held by the stem and covering one of his eyes. 

One of Jeno, with a flower up to his face, held by the stem and covering one of his eyes. 

One of both of those flowers, laid against a plain white surface, stems intertwined and connected. 

_ “Just like us, Jeno-ya. Together forever!” _

Jeno rips his eyes away from the wall before he can think more about the day those photos were taken, in the confinements of their backyard and with the aid of Jaemin's photography skills. 

He wants to know why he hadn't taken these pictures down, why there's a tray on his bedside table, and why there were only a few pictures hanging in the hallway when they came home. 

_ No _ . 

Not home. 

When they came to Jaemin's house. 

But what use can Jaemin be, answering those questions? What use can Jaemin be to help him understand, when he didn't remember anything after having a ring slipped onto his finger?

Similarly, what use is Jaemin in his life?

"What're you doing just standing there? Come to bed,"

As if it were that easy. As if taking the seven steps from the door to what used to be his side of the bed was easy. As if it didn't feel miles away, as if it didn't feel impossible to reach. 

But Jaemin is looking at him with confusion in his eyes, which slowly grows into concern when Jeno stays standing in the doorway, motionless. And Jeno is too tired to explain why it's hard to even look at the bed, to have even a fragment of their moments spent in that bed come back to him.

The nights where the sheets would smell like Jaemin's favourite body wash, the mornings where Jaemin would chastise him for getting drool on the pillowcases. The late hours of the morning, with their bodies pressed close, skin on skin with promises whispered in each other's mouths, breaths mingling and lips never parting. 

Because to them, that was love. 

Love was as easy as falling next to each other at the end of the day, as easy as holding each other close when they were too tired to do anything else. 

Love was as easy as finding each other's hands in the darkness of their bedroom, through the whirring of the air conditioning system, because apparently, the only thing they could agree on was that it had to be cold when they were sleeping. 

Love was as easy as asking for five more minutes every morning, because they couldn't remember the last time they simply basked in each other's warmth and embrace. 

But maybe love wasn't that easy. 

And maybe that's why their love didn't last. 

But that's too much to explain to Jaemin, so it's with extreme reluctance that he puts one foot in front of the other and sits down on the bed. 

It's just a bed, but the memories between the sheets are enough for Jeno to be cautious as he sits down, to close his eyes when the springs squeak gently under his weight. 

Jeno hates how familiar it feels. It's like his body is still moulded into the mattress, like he never left. It's warm, like he just woke up, despite the air conditioning being on full blast. Worst of all, it fills a void in his soul. 

Maybe it's the heat of another human next to him after so long. 

Maybe it's the closet where he used to put his guitar staring back at him.

Maybe it's the familiar way Jaemin's arms wrap around his waist from behind, cheek pressing against his back. 

Whatever it is, Jeno wishes it would go away. 

"Honey, what's wrong? Are you tired?"

_ “Honey, what's wrong?” _

Maybe time was a cruel construct. Maybe it was history which always seems to repeat itself. Maybe it could even be the fact that life liked to play cruel jokes on Jeno.

But no matter what it is, Jeno can't help the answer the same way he has a million times before. 

Perhaps in the hopes that it would help Jaemin remember. 

Or that it would lessen the weight of the question. 

Or that they could forget about this. 

But Jeno isn't naive. He knows his answer is strikingly identical to what he's said countless times before because it's a habit. It's a habit, to not burden Jaemin with what's on his mind. It's a habit to move on from this topic. 

_ “Honey, what's wrong?” _

_ “Nothing, baby, everything's fine.” _

"Nothing, baby, everything's fine,"

It's sick, the way Jaemin believes him, like he did all those months ago when Jeno first started lying to him. 

Jaemin doesn't remember his lies. 

But there's not much more Jeno can do now, not when Jaemin pulls him down to lay next to him. Arms around his waist, chest pressed to his side and head resting above his heart. 

It's weird to feel someone's body heat pressed next to his body after so long, to feel someone's breath on his skin, to feel someone slot their legs with his. 

As much as it's weird though, it's familiar. It's so familiar that it brings Jeno back two years in the past, so why isn't it bringing Jaemin back too? 

Why doesn't he remember anything after feeling Jeno's body pressed next to his?

Why doesn't he remember anything after hearing Jeno's heartbeat under his ear?

Why doesn't he remember anything after twisting their legs together like puzzle pieces? 

"You're warm," Jaemin mumbles, sleepy with the way his words mumble into one. Jeno thinks Jaemin is about to fall asleep immediately, and he's glad because that means he can disentangle their bodies and replace himself with a pillow. Before he can start the waiting game though, Jaemin continues to speak. "I missed you so much Jeno. When you didn't visit me at first, I was a little upset. But Mark told me you had a business trip, so it's okay. I'm just happy you're here now."

Jeno barely registers all of what Jaemin said, mainly focused on how apparently, he was on a business trip? 

Why would Mark lie for him? Why after all this time, after everything that happened? 

"I'm happy I get to fall asleep in your arms again. I love you."

It should be the equivalent of poison. Maybe it is the equivalent of poison, and he just hadn't heard enough for the poison to take effect. It should scald his throat and destroy his insides, render him useless and motionless, because he doesn't know where to go from here. 

Where does he go from Jaemin confessing to missing him?

Where does he go from Jaemin leisurely speaking to him, like it isn't brewing a storm up in Jeno's brain and heart?

Where does he go from Jaemin wanting to fall asleep in his arms?

Admittedly, maybe even ashamedly, Jeno doesn't remember the last time he held Jaemin in his arms, as they both drifted off to sleep. And although Jeno's arms are folded across his stomach, not wanting to,  _ not knowing how to  _ touch Jaemin, the thought is the same. The answer isn't there. Jeno knows better than to think that he doesn't remember the last time because he pushed this part of his life away, but he knows it's simply because it's just been that long since he has. 

He guesses that's the difference between him and Jaemin. 

Jaemin can't remember anything. 

Jeno doesn't want to remember anything.

  
  
  


Jeno can't fall asleep. 

No matter how hard he tries, he can't close his eyes and bring himself to not focus on Jaemin's breath on his neck, or Jaemin's body pressed next to his. 

He's long ditched the idea of trying to slip out of the younger's hold, because it's vice-like, and Jeno figures he couldn't escape without waking him up, thus defeating the whole purpose. 

He sighs, not knowing what to do. 

He supposes he could go a night without any sleep, he's done it before. Granted, at those times it was the deadlines of his job and tens of documents keeping him awake, and not his ex-fiancé. 

_ Ex-fiancé _ . 

He's never thought about it like that, probably because he didn't let himself think about it. An ex-boyfriend, maybe an ex-best friend. But wording it like that... An ex-fiancé... 

They were about to get married. 

Jeno was about to spend the rest of his life with Jaemin. Recite vows that he wrote, put a wedding ring on his fourth finger, kiss him in front of their families. Dance with him, pop a bottle of champagne with him, cut into a cake with him. 

The cake. 

Jaemin made him promise that they'd have a white wedding cake. 

Jeno was ready to give Jaemin a white wedding cake. 

Jeno was ready to give Jaemin everything. 

But as he feels the stinging in his heart when he looks over at Jaemin for a second, he thinks it's okay that he didn't get to recite vows, put a ring on his fourth finger, kiss him in front of their families. That he didn't dance with him, pop a champagne bottle or cut into a cake. He thinks it's okay that he broke his promise of a white wedding cake. Because it wouldn't hurt if he was still willing to give Jaemin all of it, right?

Maybe it was for the better, that they parted ways. 

Or maybe, it's just easier to say. 

Either way, when Jaemin shifts a little and loosen his hold on Jeno's body, he takes the opportunity to get out of bed. Where his feet would've met grey slippers, there's now nothing. He sighs internally, standing up on the icy cold floor as he quietly makes his way out of the bedroom. 

The trek to the kitchen is familiar, even when the house is encapsulated in darkness. He doesn't miss a single step, walking down the stairs, and finds himself sitting down on a barstool he vividly remembers ordering online. 

_ "But orange is an ugly colour, Jeno-ya~" _

_ "You're an ugly colour." _

_ "Hey!" _

It's a distant memory now, at best. 

From here, there's a view of the wall that they hung the pictures on a mere few hours ago, covering the entirety of it. 

An affinity of Jeno and Jaemin. 

Of what could've been theirs. 

As his eyes leave that wall, Jeno notices the little things that are missing around the house. 

Mainly the things that Jeno had bought for the house. He didn't really give enough time to himself to pack up everything his life had held in boxes when he moved out, primarily focused on leaving as soon as possible. 

But as he takes in just how much is missing from the house, he wonders what Jaemin did with all those things. 

He also wonders if Jaemin will notice all the things he did. Will he ask about where all the little trinkets went? Will he want to put them back up? What excuse could Jeno give about them not being up? 

He guesses it's better to be safe than sorry, as he gets up from the bar stool and heads to the storage room. 

Jeno should've thought more about it. He should've been more tentative, because he doesn't live here anymore. This isn't his home anymore, so he wonders, as he opens the door, why what used to be his desk looks untouched against the wall. 

The stack of post-its, the stapler, the spare file folder... 

Everything looks just like he had left it. 

Jaemin hadn't touched a thing. 

But he refuses to give it any thought, because he simply doesn't want to. He doesn't want to think about what it could mean, his brain already hurts enough as it is after today's events. 

Instead, he opens the door to the closet, spotting a tornado of sorts. There are many objects tossed here and there carelessly, many overflowing boxes and miscellaneous objects he doesn't remember ever seeing. 

He forces himself not to read too much into things as he steps into the closet, eyes simply searching for the decorative pieces and paintings that had been hung up around the house. Jeno hadn't been lying when he said that he still had a vivid memory of what the house looked like, and he guesses this is the only time it could be deemed more useful than annoying. 

So he relents, grabbing an empty box and putting some things inside, leaving the room to start putting things back in the living room. 

A tiny cat statue, which belongs on the fireplace mantle, between the wedding invitation and a candle. 

When he catches sight of the invitation, he can't stop his fingers from reaching out and grabbing the paper between them. 

The paper crinkles loudly in the silence of the house, amplified because Jeno feels like he stopped breathing too. All he can do is stare at the front of the invitation card, where  _ 'JenJaem's Wedding' _ is written in barely legible writing. 

But it's Jaemin's writing, so he's gotten used to being able to read it. 

He's scared to open the card up, afraid of what he'll see. Afraid of the broken promises scrawled onto the paper, written in permanent ink with a hand that didn't know any better. 

However at the end of the day, Jeno's weak. 

_ If you get this card, that means you're either special to Jeno, or Jaemin! This is our wedding invitation! _

_ Can you believe it? I'm going to marry Jeno! He's going to be my husband, and I can cook him breakfast every morning and make him his favourite rice, soy sauce and egg as a snack whenever he wants.  _

_ Jaemin and Jeno's wedding is going to be beautiful! Please bring your kindness, but gifts are also cool.  _

_ I don't know when it's going to be yet, or where, but it doesn't really matter. As long as I get to be Jeno's husband, I'll be happy.  _

_ I hope Jeno will be happy too.  _

_ Anyway, this is your wedding invite! Don't lose it, and we hope to see you when we get married.  _

_ P.S. I'm really marrying Jeno, I can't believe it. I hope I can make him happy.  _

And then, Jeno cries.

  
  
  


»«

  
  
  


Once the sun peeks through the curtains that Jeno always forgets to draw close, Jaemin notices the cold spot next to him in bed. 

He frowns, a bit upset that the first morning back from the hospital, he wakes up without Jeno. But he doesn't think much of it, instead deciding to search for the other boy. 

Jaemin makes quick work of brushing teeth and taking a very short, very quick shower, carelessly drying his hair and changing into something which weren't his pyjamas. 

He would've liked to wear one of Jeno's t-shirts, but he guesses they're in the laundry or something, because there aren't many of his clothes in the dressing drawers. 

Once again though, Jaemin pushes the thought to the back of his head, more excited to spend his first breakfast with Jeno since he's come back from the hospital. 

Meals have been tiresome and lonely when he was admitted, stuck to the confinements of his hospital room since he didn't really feel like going down to the cafeteria. Sure, Donghyuck and Mark were good company, as they always are, but they weren't Jeno. And it sounds a bit bad to say, but could you really blame Jaemin? He just wanted to have his fiancé by his side while his injuries healed. He's thankful no major bones are broken, or that his organs didn't take the blow, as it seems it's just his head that suffered the most. 

He's glad that the accident didn't mangle his face, for Jeno always tells him he looks like an angel. It doesn't matter if he believed it or not, what mattered was that Jeno liked it. 

Back to the point though, Donghyuck and Mark's company didn't even come near Jeno's company. Whenever Jeno came around for lunch or dinner, never for breakfast, for some reason, he'd simply sit near Jaemin and they'd eat together, in comfortable silence. 

At first, Jaemin didn't understand why Jeno wouldn't talk, but he didn't question it, assuming that it wasn't really a pleasant atmosphere, not when Jaemin was injured. 

So he let it go, because there's a lot he'd keep unspoken if it meant Jeno’s comfort, and simply enjoyed the other's presence in the hospital room with him. 

Jeno always calls him the sun, but Jaemin thinks that Jeno was the one who brightened up the room whenever he walked in. 

Padding down the stairs, Jaemin immediately sees Jeno laid down on the couch, and he frowns, wondering what he could be doing down here. 

He hopes Jeno didn't spend the entire night on the couch, not when their bed was so comfortable. 

Walking closer to the boy, Jaemin crouches down to sit in front of Jeno's laid body, one of his hands coming up to gently move his brown bangs out of his eyes. 

Last time Jaemin checked, Jeno's hair wasn't this dark of a brown, but it could've simply been the way he adds hair dye into his conditioner to keep the colour longer. 

It's when Jaemin's gaze moves from Jeno's hair that he notices the tear stains on his fiancé's face. 

Now with a deep frown on his face, Jaemin's knuckles brush over Jeno's cheeks, touch barely there, like a kiss of skin. He sighs when he takes in how Jeno's eyes are slightly swollen, and Jaemin wonders what could've made him cry.

It doesn't sit right in his heart, knowing Jeno cried and that he wasn't there to comfort him. Maybe he didn't want to bother Jaemin in the middle of the night, making his way to the living room before breaking down. Jaemin wishes that Jeno would've just woken him up, but he understands that maybe Jeno just needed a good cry by himself. 

He's about to get up and find a blanket to lay over Jeno's body, but he notices something clutched between the other's hands. 

Tilting his head curiously to the side, Jaemin reaches down to carefully pry the paper out of Jeno's hands, identifying it as their handwritten wedding invitation. 

Instantly, a fond smile makes its way onto Jaemin's face, memories from the night he had written it coming to mind. 

It had been about a day or two after Jeno had proposed, and Jaemin had still been feeling over the moon about their engagement. The promise of marrying Jeno in the near future made his stomach erupt with butterflies every time he was reminded of the fact, and it made his heart beat a mile a minute.

It may have been two years ago, when Jeno proposed, but as he looks down at the ring strung through the thin metal chain around his neck, he knows that it doesn't matter when they get married, as long as the promise always stays. 

As long as in this life, Jaemin gets to look at Jeno and proudly say that he's his husband, nothing else matters. 

"Are you happy?" Jaemin whispers into the silent air between them, crouching back down next to Jeno's head. He lays the invitation card down onto the coffee table, mesmerized by Jeno's face. No matter if he had been crying, with his eyes swollen and lips chapped, Jeno still looks like his dream. With a sculpted nose, the prettiest lips, most beautiful jawline, the cutest mole by his eye, his kissable cupid's bow. 

He looks like everything Jaemin has ever wanted. 

"Were you crying because you're happy?" He asks again in a whisper, knowing he wasn't going to get a response. Maybe it was comforting, knowing that he wasn't talking to someone in particular, more so the atmosphere between them. "Sometimes I cry when I'm happy too." 

It's easy to sit in the living room with Jeno, to sit in the house which they've searched for, bought, decorated and continue to pay for together. The house they've customized to their liking, the house they said that they'd raise cats and kids in. 

Living in a house with Jeno is easy. 

Looking at a future with Jeno in it is easy. 

Loving Jeno is easy. 

"I can't wait," Jaemin says, running his fingertips gently across the outline of Jeno's face, as if committing every angle and edge to memory. 

He could never forget Jeno. 

"Can't wait to marry you, Lee Jeno."

  
  
  


When Jeno wakes up, it's to a sugary scent in the air and fingers in his hair. 

It's with unease that he registered the feeling of waking up like this familiar, but he guesses he's been getting used to pushing the uncomfortableness down, all the way down until it was numb. 

There was no point thinking about it anyway. 

"Hey," Jaemin calls, soft with the way he speaks, dainty with the way he smiles. "You slept a long time," he adds, fingers never stopping in his hair, as if it were his favourite thing to go. 

Somewhere under the layers of protection Jeno had put up, he remembers that it is in fact, one of Jaemin's favourite things to do, play with his hair. 

Closer to the surface though, Jeno wants to move his head away and say something along the lines of,  _ 'Yeah, you normally tend to knock out after crying your eyes out _ ', but settles against it once he realizes that then he'd have to explain why he was crying. 

Even as he runs the hypothetical question though his head, he wonders; why did he start crying? A reason to feel so sad to the point where Jeno couldn't help but sob uncontrollably, trying his best to muffle it behind his hand, because Jaemin hearing him was the last thing he wanted. 

Surely, he knows that it was the empty promises written onto the wedding invitation, the promise of a wedding, the promise of breakfast every morning and rice, soy sauce and egg whenever he wanted. 

It was overwhelming. 

He couldn't imagine it anymore. The life they had built, the one they had promised each other, and the one they wanted in the future. 

He couldn't imagine Jaemin being so happy every time the engagement was brought up, every time the wedding was brought up. 

He couldn't imagine him getting down onto one knee, ring box open and Jaemin in front of him, shocked, happy,  _ crying because he's so happy _ . 

But it's all just that.

It all ends at that. 

He couldn't imagine it. 

Because he already lived through it. 

He already lived through the life they built, the life they promised each other, the talk of the one they wanted in the future. 

He already lived through Jaemin being so happy every time the engagement was brought up, every time the wedding was brought up.

He already lived through getting down on one knee, ring box open and Jaemin in front of him, shocked, happy,  _ crying because he's so happy. _

He's lived through everything pummelling his brain, so then why does it all feel like nothing more than a dream? 

"What's that smell?" He finally asks after finding his voice, pushing himself up from the couch. This forces Jaemin's fingers to leave his scalp, and whether he's glad for that or not, he's not too sure yet. 

"Pancakes! Your favourite," Jaemin answers, beaming with a content smile on his face. 

Maybe it was the way Jaemin sounded so perky. 

Maybe it was the way Jaemin smiled like the shining sun. 

Maybe it was the way Jaemin looked at him like he hung the stars. 

But whatever the reason was, Jeno finds himself saying,

"You shouldn't be doing so much when you just got out of the hospital."

"It's alright," Jaemin immediately brushes off, similarly to the way he always would whenever Jeno would chastise him for cooking lunch when he was running a fever. "I just wanted to make you feel a bit better. You were crying last night..." 

At the mention of his tears, Jeno's head whips to look at Jaemin, who seems bashful as he looks back at him. 

"I know sometimes you don't wanna talk about it, and that's okay with me, but I just wanna know if you're okay. Are you okay, Jeno?" 

This is something Jeno doesn't remember.

Everything else has been striking a nerve of resemblance in the back of his brain, but this Jaemin, the one who's sitting next to him on the couch with a shy look on his face but sincere words on his tongue—

He doesn't remember this.

He doesn't remember Jaemin being so open and understanding of him not being able to speak up. He doesn't remember Jaemin saying it was okay to not want to talk to him if something was wrong. He doesn't remember Jaemin asking him, simply,  _ so simply _ , if he was okay.

Whenever Jaemin had shown his concern or worry for Jeno in the past, it had greatly consisted of over the top gestures and never ending questions. 

Jeno, at the time, had somewhat understood it. Jaemin was concerned, had every right to be when they were...  _ Fiancés _ , or whatever. Jaemin had simply wanted to know Jeno's problem and help, but it wasn't that easy for Jeno. 

For him, it had been easy to cover up and hide his emotions. Digging them out from inside of his soul was already a task, but it was never any easier when Jaemin would always insist on solving the problem right away. 

Jeno can't do it right away. 

Jeno needs time. 

And for some reason, the Jaemin sitting in front of him is giving him that. 

"I'm alright," he finds himself answering, eyes glued to how Jaemin nods slowly, as if to show Jeno that it's okay, that it's okay that he didn't want to talk now. 

"Okay," Jaemin smiles. "But um, Mark texted me about him and Donghyuck coming over today, is that alright?" 

Mark and Donghyuck. 

They were another headache Jeno didn't even think about yet. 

  
  
  


The first thing Jeno notices is the way Mark purses his lips when he sees the pictures back up all over the wall. Judging by the obvious distaste on his face, Jeno being back in Jaemin's life is just as unpleasant for him as it is for Jeno. Perhaps he even helped Jaemin take them down for all he knows, Mark could've had an internalized vendetta against him that he kept inside all these years for Jaemin's sake but let out once they broke up. 

Or maybe Jeno is trying to find a fault in what used to be a perfect picture in the past. 

Either way, Mark looks upset, as he walks into the living room. 

"Is it harder at home? You can always go back to the hospital for a bit," Donghyuck says, ever so always doting on Jaemin. Jeno used to think it was the other way around when he’d first seen their dynamic, Jaemin was always so used to taking care of everyone around him. With Donghyuck though, it was different. Maybe it was because Donghyuck didn’t really have a lot of people younger than him in his life, so he decided to take care of Jaemin, despite them only being two months apart. 

Jeno thinks that’s also why he was so fond of Chenle and Jisung. 

But he won’t think about what used to be seven of them right now, not when Mark is glaring daggers at him. 

If looks could kill, Jeno would be six feet under by this point. 

“What?” He hisses, glad that they’re a fair distance away from Jaemin and Donghyuck, who’ve fallen into conversation about Jaemin taking care of himself at home. 

Also, Mark had always said that Jeno could treat him just like a brother. And Jeno has a foul mouth on his real brother, so why not use one on Mark too? Maybe his kindness had only been extended until his relationship with Mark’s younger stepbrother had come to a stop, but Jeno never looked at the technicalities anyway. 

“I hate that you’re here,” Mark simply, honestly says, arms crossed over his chest and jaw clenched in what Jeno can only assume is frustration. 

“How do I think I feel? I’d rather be anywhere than this damn house,” Jeno shoots back, glaring to make him look equally as frustrated, maybe even more, he and Mark were always competitive. “You know I had to sleep in a bed beside him last night?”

Mark seems to tense at that, hardening his look even more, if that was even possible.

“Don’t you dare do a thing to make him uncomfortable,” Mark says in a low voice, bordering on a growl if Jeno listens closely enough.

“Not like there’s a thing I’d want to do with him in the first place,” Jeno spits back, firm in his words. “Who do you even take me for?”

“I don’t know you, Jeno,” Mark says blandly, stating his words as a fact, as if it was well known. 

Maybe Mark thought it was well known to the people around him, but it’s for that reason that Jeno is just a little taken aback. 

He’s not in Mark’s life anymore, how was he supposed to know? 

How was he supposed to know that Mark didn’t know him? Didn’t know the first time they met and Mark spilled his coffee on him accidentally? Didn’t know that he treated him out to dinner when he graduated? Didn’t know that he helped pick out flowers the night he proposed to Jaemin? 

How was Jeno supposed to know that Mark erased him from his life, when they weren’t in each other’s life anymore?

“Then I don’t know you, Mark.” 

  
  
  


Dinner is more awkward than it needs to be. Or perhaps it was destined to be this awkward, because there’s no way that Jaemin can’t feel the obvious tension between all four of them as they’re sitting around the dining table, stew hot yet sitting untouched in the bowls in front of them.

Jaemin had asked Mark and Donghyuck to stay for dinner, and in order to keep the normalcy and keep up the facade that everything is like the past, the two had agreed. Maybe they were tired of pretending too, but they did a better job at hiding it than Jeno did. 

So then it started, Mark and Jeno sitting on opposite sides of the living room while refusing to even look at each other. Jaemin dragged Donghyuck to the kitchen because while saying that it’s a  _ ‘Jaem and Duckie cooking show!’ _ , clearly unaware that they’ve stopped calling themselves that ever since Renjun had told them they weren’t stellar in the kitchen, having set off his smoke alarm. 

Donghyuck almost bursts into tears when he hears Jaemin say that, and Jeno has to pretend like he doesn’t see Mark wince at the memory. 

If it was the memory of Jaemin referring to him and Donghyuck in the kitchen as the  _ ‘Jaem and Duckie cooking show’ _ or the memory of the smoke alarm being set off, Jeno doesn’t ask.

Instead, he sits and scrolls through his messages, mainly from Jisung and Renjun asking how he’s holding up, and Chenle asking if he should drop off Jeno’s things so that it didn’t seem suspicious that he was leaving the house. 

Jeno texts Chenle back, saying it’d be appreciated if he could bring some more of his clothes and the three cats, seeing as it was pretty obvious that Jeno wasn’t about to leave this house any time soon. Especially when he couldn’t use his business trip excuse anymore, courtesy of Mark who already said he’d been gone on one during the days he was avoiding this whole situation. 

And plus, how often do lawyers even go on business trips? He’s glad Jaemin fell for it once, it won’t happen again, he’s pretty sure. 

“Hyung, honey, food’s ready!” Jaemin calls from the kitchen, and this time it’s Jeno who winces at the familiar call. Mark must’ve noticed it too, if the way he sighs as he gets up is anything to go by. 

They both pocket their phones, walking towards the dining table, seeing Donghyuck and Jaemin already sitting down. This leads to Mark taking the seat beside Jaemin, where Jeno used to sit, leaving Jeno to sit next to Donghyuck across from the two brothers.

Thus leading them to present time, staring at the stew that honestly looks delicious in front of them, silent.

“What’s with the atmosphere? Come on, eat!” Jaemin urges, picking up his spoon and bringing the hot stew to his mouth. Before he can take a bite though, Mark speaks.

“What kind of stew did you guys make, hm?” 

“Kimchi stew with tofu—”

It’s like a trigger word. 

_ Tofu _ .

It sounds stupid, but the single four lettered word takes Jeno back thirteen months. 

It was just Jaemin and him, alone in a restaurant eating. If they were celebrating something or simply on a date, Jeno doesn’t remember. All he remembers is that they were having a nice conversation, and that he ordered cold noodles while Jaemin ordered kimchi stew with tofu. 

They were around twenty three years old? At least, Jeno was, Jaemin’s birthday still hadn’t approached. It was almost a year after they graduated university, and they were already living in their house. They were also already engaged. 

He doesn’t really remember what they were talking about, only remembers that it didn’t take a long time for their food to arrive. Jaemin’s hot bowl and Jeno’s cold one placed in front of them respectively, and Jaemin had been so excited to eat, he almost knocked down his glass of water. 

And then, he remembers something he doesn’t think he’d be able to forget, even if he tried. 

Maybe it was because it was important information, maybe it was because Jaemin looked funny with a red face, Jeno shamefully admits, or maybe it was because it scared him more than it should’ve. 

After all, it was his fiancé choking on his throat closing on him.

It was that night they learned about Jaemin’s sudden allergy to tofu. 

Granted, they didn’t tell anyone except Mark, simply deciding to be careful and whatnot, but Jeno sees the flaw in that mindset, right now, thirteen months later. 

Realistically, he couldn’t blame Donghyuck for this, he didn’t know. He also couldn’t really blame Jaemin, because Jaemin didn’t remember this discovery. But it’s easier to blame Jaemin for these things, and Jeno realizes he’s been doing a lot of that lately. 

In present time though, when Jaemin says  _ ‘tofu’ _ , he’s taken back to the feeling he felt that night at the restaurant. 

The fear and the hopelessness and the uncertainty, and maybe because it was important, maybe because it was funny, maybe because it was traumatic, but Jeno finds himself springing to action before his mind can even fully process what’s going on. 

“Don’t eat that!” He exclaims, standing up from his chair and grabbing the spoon from Jaemin’s hand. It falls back into the bowl with a small sound, and Jeno notices just how quiet it is in the house. 

“What? Why?” Jaemin asks, frowning, and now Jeno doesn’t know how to explain the situation. 

How does he explain what happened to Jaemin when he didn’t remember it? How does he tell Jaemin that he’s allergic to tofu when he hasn’t been his whole life? 

Thankfully though, Mark comes pipes in. 

“Maybe you don’t remember, but you were drunk one night and had tofu. We learned you were allergic that night,” he explains, tone even, and now Jeno wonders when it had become easy for Mark to lie to Jaemin. 

But he doesn’t dwell on it for too long, spooning the tofu out of Jaemin’s bowl and putting it on his own. 

“Just don’t eat the tofu,” he mutters, refusing to look at any of the boys sitting around the table with him. 

He knows the look that they’ll have for him, and he knows he doesn’t want to deal with it. 

Jeno doesn’t know why he remembers this detail from thirteen months ago.

But for the first time, he’s glad he does.

  
  
  


»«

  
  
  


The first month that goes by like this is almost completely unbearable. 

Everyday, Jeno seems to find something which takes him back four years, three years, two years, one year, eight months, six months into the past. Everyday, he finds something which reminds him of the life he used to live, the people he had lived this life with, the feelings he felt living that life. 

Everyday is a reminder of what it used to be like when he was in a relationship with Jaemin. 

When he was dating Jaemin, the little notes he used to write for the younger, were all kept in Jaemin’s office drawer. When they were celebrating their one year anniversary together, Jaemin’s half of the matching bracelets sat on his bedside table. When they were engaged, Jaemin’s ring sat strung through a chain on his neck. 

But there’s no semblance of when they broke up. 

Because according to this house, according to this Jaemin, and according to this Jaemin’s timeline, they didn’t break up. 

They’re still together. They’re still living in this house. They’re still engaged. They’re still going to get married. 

And for whatever reason, Jeno finds the role easier to play than he thought. 

He thought it’d be hard to walk down those stairs every morning, after waking up next to Jaemin every morning. He thought it’d be hard to eat at the table with Jaemin everyday, to come back to this house at the end of every day. He thought it’d be unbearable, getting a kiss on the cheek as a welcome home, getting a kiss on the mouth as a silent gesture. 

Old habits die hard, he guesses. 

“Hi,” 

It’s one word.

It’s two letters but the weight of it, along with the mouth curling up, paired with the eyes shining bright, finished with the lips on his cheek, and it’s more than a word. 

It’s more than a greeting. 

“Hello, Jaem,”

Two words, nine letters, a kiss on the forehead and an arm around the waist. 

It feels like something he shouldn’t be allowed to do. 

But if that was so, why did it feel like home? 

“How was work?” 

Toeing off shoes, shrugging off a blazer, putting down a briefcase. All in places he wouldn’t have put them in his own apartment, all in places where they belonged at one point. 

“It was alright. You?”

A hand leading him to the table, a table filled with dishes, dishes filled with food. Nothing like this greeted him at his apartment, but that could be because nothing like Jaemin greeted him at his apartment either. 

“It was nice,”

A seat across from his, a plate identical to his, dinner piled on and water poured in a glass. 

Familiarity. 

And maybe in the worst way; normalcy. 

“That’s good to hear, darling.”

  
  
  
  


“I didn’t think you’d be here this early,” Donghyuck muses, smiling cheerily at Jaemin. The younger boy comes into the café, hair a bit ruffled and adjusting his jacket. “Even though you’re still late.”

“Sorry,” Jaemin apologizes, sitting down on the chair opposite of Donghyuck. He takes a sip of the complimentary ice water, sighing in satisfaction as the coldness hits his tongue. “Jeno had an early shift and I went back to sleep after making his lunch.”

At this, Donghyuck is surprised. He tries not to let his show, biting his straw between his teeth, but he can’t help the inquisitive quirk of his eyebrow. 

“You make his lunch?” 

Jaemin hums, eyes scanning through the menu in his hands. Donghyuck had already looked through and decided on what he wanted to order for brunch, given how much time Jaemin had provided him with by oversleeping. 

“Yeah, why wouldn’t I?” Donghyuck isn’t meant to answer the question, so he doesn’t. “He likes the shapes I make with rice, and even asked for a bunny next time.”

Donghyuck watches, as Jaemin continues to look through the menu. 

Nothing about him physically has changed much, since the accident. The injuries on his head have healed and the bruising is gone. He’s still as thin and healthy as he was before, but when Donghyuck looks at Jaemin’s cheeks, they’re fuller. Rounder, and his eyes are brighter, no longer dull. No longer dull and there’s a skip in his step. 

No, nothing about Jaemin’s physical appearance has changed, but when Donghyuck looks closely, his spirit has. 

It’s obvious, and as much as Donghyuck doesn’t want to admit it, Jaemin is happier now. 

He’s happier with Jeno in his life. 

But he doesn’t know that. Jaemin doesn’t even know he was sad without Jeno in his life. He doesn’t know that there was a point in time, where Jeno wasn’t in his life. 

For some reason or another, it hurts Donghyuck to know that Jaemin is living like this. Living without the memory of someone who he held dearest to his heart, while also being someone who broke his heart. It doesn’t sit right with Donghyuck, knowing that Jaemin is only aware of one of those things. 

He admits, seeing Jaemin like this is refreshing. Seeing him when he isn’t moping around all day, staring blankly at the vacant walls and empty drawers. It’s better seeing him smile all the time than watching his soulless eyes. But with that admission, Donghyuck has to acknowledge Jeno. 

Jeno coming back into Jaemin’s life seems to be benefiting only Jaemin. No doubt, Jeno had been weary about the whole thing, and as comfortable he seems now, Donghyuck knows better than to assume he’s at ease. Mark had also hated the idea of phone calling Jeno five days after Jaemin woke up from surgery, but with the sight of his younger brother’s tears and blubbering pleas, it was hard for Mark to say no.

He doesn’t really know how long things can keep going like this, but it’s safe to assume that seeing Jeno with Jaemin, and Jaemin grinning ear to ear, is going to be something he should get used to. 

“Just wondering,” he tacks on, remembering that he had to continue the conversation with Jaemin. “Aren’t you guys both too old to be eating animal shaped rice?”

Looking scandalized, Jaemin gasps. 

“Never too old for animals,” he says, closing his menu. “I’m ready. Are you?”

“I’ve  _ been _ ready Jaemin, you’re the one who was late,” Donghyuck tsks, but waves a waiter down nonetheless. 

This Jaemin, who’s sitting in front of him and ordering his food, is a Jaemin he hasn’t seen in a while. 

He doesn’t think Jeno knows, because there is no way for him to find out, but Jaemin hadn’t been going out a lot, ever since six months ago. 

He’d been holding himself up in the house, neglecting chores like doing the dishes, laundry and even cooking. Donghyuck remembers that month where he and Mark had temporarily moved in, in order to help Jaemin with stepping back into his routine. Mundane tasks were starting to complete themselves again, and he even started cooking more than ordering food in. 

It was a slow process, but it was nice to see Jaemin push forward. Because Jaemin has always been determined, and if there’s something he wants, he’ll find a way to get it. 

It’s always nice to see him somewhere outside of his house. Jaemin in the world looks better than Jaemin against the couch. 

“Are you listening to what I’m saying?”

Jaemin’s question brings Donghyuck back, and he belatedly realizes that Jaemin had been saying something that he wasn’t listening to at all. 

That’s another thing. 

Jaemin talks more now. 

He really did shut in on himself after Jeno moved out, never really keeping a conversation going for longer than a sentence or two. He couldn’t go longer without noticing Jeno’s striking absence in a conversation, or else he’d start breaking down into heavy sobs. 

Donghyuck hated it, seeing Jaemin so broken over someone who didn’t fight for him. Who walked out of his life, his home, his  _ heart _ , so easily, without looking back. He ached for Jaemin whenever he’d cry himself to sleep, whenever he’d call him in the middle of the night, bordering on being blackout drunk and crying about how cold the bed feels.

Donghyuck slept next to Jaemin in that bed for a month after that. 

The number of times he woke up to Jaemin calling him  _ ‘honey’ _ was unimaginable. 

“Why are you staring at me?”

Donghyuck realizes he still wasn’t paying attention to Jaemin. 

“No reason. You look happy,” he ends up shrugging, trying to come off as nonchalant, as if he wasn’t thinking about how the Jaemin sitting in front of him and the Jaemin from two months ago were completely different people. 

He didn’t know whether it was a good or bad thing either. 

On one hand, this Jaemin is happier, and his happiness makes Donghyuck and Mark happy. But it was based off of a lie, based off of a secret kept from him.

And on the other, at least the Jaemin from two months ago was aware. At least he knew the truths about what happened in his life, Jeno’s life and the lives of everyone else around him. 

That Jaemin wasn’t as clueless.

But that Jaemin also wasn’t as happy. 

“Is there a reason for me not to be?” The younger asks, tilting his head to the side confusedly. “I have everything I could ever ask for. A beautiful best friend, an amazing brother and a lovely fiancé,”

He smiles, and it’s the brightest Donghyuck has seen in months. 

“Why wouldn’t I be happy? I’m the happiest boy in the world, Donghyuck.” 

  
  
  
  


Sooner than he would’ve liked, Jeno realizes Mark’s birthday is next week. 

“What should we get him? Cufflinks?” 

Jeno wants to tell Jaemin that they already bought Mark cufflinks as a part of their gift to him a year ago for Christmas, but figures it’d be pointless. 

It’s not like he could remember that anyway. 

“Ties,” Jeno simply suggests, finding that his fingers absentmindedly reach for Jaemin’s waist, drawing shapes onto his skin above the fabric. 

He remembers Mark saying he needed ties to Donghyuck, last time they were here for dinner. 

He also remembers how he used to trace promises onto Jaemin’s waist, before he left them all broken.

That is enough for him to withdraw his fingers. 

Once again, he guesses old habits die hard. 

“Ties are good. Three?” Jaemin agrees, easily, as he’s been doing a lot lately. 

It’s not necessarily weird, Jeno would take the Jaemin who agrees with him over the Jaemin who argues with him over mundane things any day, but it’s just a bit of a shock. 

The last few months Jeno spent with Jaemin before their break up consisted majorly of arguing, over big and small things alike. They weren’t those healthy arguments either, because healthy arguments don’t lead to ignoring each for a week or sleeping on the couch every night for said week. 

“Three is good.”

“Do you... Want ties?”

“What?” 

“For the wedding... Do you wanna wear ties?” 

The wedding... 

_ The wedding! _

Of course Jaemin would be talking about the wedding, whereas Jeno hadn’t thought about it in months. 

The wedding. 

Where had they left off with that?

“What else would we wear?”

It’s an easy way to deflect the question, because Jeno doesn’t know the answer. He doesn’t think he’s ever even had the conversation with Jaemin, to wear ties or to not. It seems like something that should be lower than the lowest thing on his list of priorities, but when Jaemin looks at him with his bottom lip between his teeth, he wants to settle this. 

Maybe it was because they hadn’t talked about it before, Jeno doesn’t know. All he knows is that he now wants to know if Jaemin wanted to wear a tie or not. 

“I was thinking bow ties,” he simply says, quietly, as if he were afraid of Jeno’s reaction to the idea. “I like bow ties.” He tacks on after a few seconds, softer. 

However, at the mention of bow ties, Jeno remembers. 

They did have this conversation before. It consisted of a lazy afternoon, warm tea and their legs intertwined. He can’t remember when, but he doesn’t think that’s important. 

What’s important is the way the conversation flowed. 

_ “What else would we wear?” _

_ “I like bow ties.” _

_ Jeno scrunches his nose.  _

_ “Bow ties are kinda ugly babe, no offense.” _

_ “Ties... Ties are good too, I guess.” _

Jeno can’t remember the date of when this conversation had taken place, but he remembers the disappointed look on Jaemin’s face.

Because he said bow ties are ugly. 

Jaemin was willing to wear a tie, because Jeno said bow ties were ugly. 

And suddenly, it’s not just a piece of clothing anymore. 

Suddenly, it’s more than just fabric. It’s more than just something to tie around their collars. Now, it’s a choice. 

It’s a choice between what he wants and what Jaemin wants. 

And just like that, it’s suddenly like their arguments all over again. 

What he wants versus what Jaemin wants. 

What he likes versus what Jaemin likes. 

What he thinks versus what Jaemin thinks. 

It’s more than a tie or a bow tie. It’s something bigger than that. It’s not a simple choice of what to wear, it’s a choice of what they both want. 

A compromise. 

_ Compromise _ . 

When was the last time he and Jaemin had come to a compromise? 

“I don’t like bow ties,” Jeno finally answers, unable to ignore the familiar look of disappointment on Jaemin’s face. He knows what the younger is about to say before he even opens his mouth, and for once, he’s glad about that. “But you don’t like ties. So let’s not even bother with any of those.”

Jaemin furrows his eyebrows, confused. 

“Then what do we wear?”

Jeno thinks about it. 

The question isn’t,  _ ‘What would you like to wear?’ _ not is it,  _ ‘What am I going to wear’. _

_ ‘What do we wear?’  _

This is a compromise, so it has to be something both he and Jaemin wouldn’t mind wearing. 

“Brooches?”

Jeno isn’t looking at him, but out of his peripheral vision, he can see Jaemin perk up. 

This isn’t how it usually goes. 

Usually, it’s about yelling at each other about who’s selfish, about who only thinks about himself, about who didn’t care. 

It ended with aggravating silence through the house, with burning passion in their hearts and unease as they fell asleep. 

It didn’t end with an agreement. 

It didn’t end with an understanding. 

It didn’t end with a comprehensive conclusion. 

Except this time, it does. 

This time, it ends with them both satisfied and peaceful. 

There’s no aggravating silence, no burning passion, no unease. 

Instead, there’s a gentle hum from Jaemin’s throat, a soft atmosphere between them and a calm beat through their chests. 

Jaemin doesn’t remember their arguments, doesn’t remember the destructiveness of it all. Doesn’t remember the pain their arguments brought on them and their relationship, and doesn’t remember the rift they had caused between them. 

Maybe it’s a good thing, to not remember something so stressful and aggravating. Jeno is sure that if he had the choice to remember the dozens of times Jaemin and his voices pierced through the air, viscous words with speared tips aimed at each other, he would choose to forget. 

_ A compromise.  _

Jeno’s proud of himself for coming to one. 

“I like brooches. Silver?”

Jeno pretends to think, but he doesn’t have to.

Because there’s nothing to think about, when Jaemin still knows him like the back of his hand. 

Despite maybe wanting to change after ridding his life of Na Jaemin, Jeno sees that he hasn’t done a good job or letting go of the way he was. 

“And sparkles?”

Jaemin, who looks up at him and kisses his cheek, positively beams at Jeno’s words. 

“Sparkles.”

  
  
  
  
  


Time and time again, Mark wonders why he dared to dial Lee Jeno’s number that fateful day. 

The day that he willingly tapped on nine digital digits, giving Jeno the power he once held over Jaemin. The power that he lost, and that Mark had placed back into his hands. 

For that, Mark doesn’t forgive himself. 

Doesn’t forgive himself for pushing a fake narrative onto Jaemin’s life, for the second time. A break up should end at that, Jeno was right when he said he didn’t have any business with Jaemin anymore. 

But in a moment of weakness, in a moment when he looked through the window of the hospital room door, and saw Jaemin shaking and crying because he wanted Jeno to be here with him while Donghyuck was trying his best to calm him down, he knew he had to do anything to at least get Jaemin to see Jeno’s face again. 

It didn’t matter if he hadn’t contacted Jeno for six months. 

It didn’t matter that his name left a vile taste on his tongue. 

It didn’t matter that he tried to forget the brother bond he made with Jeno. 

Because Jeno broke Jaemin’s heart, but was also desperate to see him again. 

And that’s enough for Mark to never want to see him again. 

So when Jeno comes into the hospital room, he’s more than eager to punch a hole through his face. Donghyuck, who could probably sense that, dragged him out of the room and didn’t let him say a word, afraid he’d come off as too much and say something Jaemin could’ve heard. 

It was a valid point, and Mark is glad that Donghyuck had pulled them out of that hospital room before he could’ve done colossal damage to Jeno’s face. 

Simply seeing him blink made Mark want to do unspeakable things to him. 

As reluctant as he had been, Mark trusted Jaemin enough to leave him in a house alone with Jeno. 

He also trusted Jeno enough when the latter said he wasn’t even interested in going anything with Jaemin, but that was before the two had come to his little birthday-get together.

He didn’t necessarily want Jeno here, but he couldn’t simply ask him not to come. Jeno is an extension of Jaemin, just like he’d always been, and Mark has to get used to it again. At least for a little bit. 

“You’re seeing it too, right?” Mark whispers to Donghyuck, who’s looking in the same direction as he is. 

They’re both looking at Jeno and Jaemin, watching as Jaemin eats cake off of his plate, talking to some of Mark’s colleagues he’d invited from work. They don’t know about everything that went down with Jaemin’s accident and memory, which makes watching Jeno and Jaemin introduce themselves as fiancés even more unsettling. 

It’s been a while since he’s seen the two of them walk around acknowledging that label.

But that wasn’t what Mark and Donghyuck were looking at, no. 

Their gazes are transfixed on the way Jeno has a hand on Jaemin’s thigh, casually, as he made light jokes and spoke to the other couple sitting in front of them. 

They looked like they always had, as if they hadn’t been broken up for six months, been arguing for four more before that, and like one of them hadn’t lost their memory. 

Mark doesn’t know how it sits with him, knowing that no matter what the circumstance, Jeno and Jaemin look like they belong together. 

Mark doesn’t want Jaemin to belong to someone like Jeno, not after everything that had gone down. 

“Yeah, I see it,” Donghyuck answers, sighing as he takes a sip of the alcoholic drink in his cup. “Heads up, he’s happy again.” 

Unwillingly, Mark accepts and knows it’s true. 

Jaemin is happier.

He’s happy again because Jeno is by him again. 

And as much as Jaemin’s happiness means the world to Mark, it feels dirty when it comes like this. Via a fake situation they all have to uphold for the sake of Jaemin’s sanity. 

He understands what’s at risk, he truly does. He doesn’t want to put Jaemin under any more mental stress or trauma, more than what the accident had caused him. He doesn’t want to hurt Jaemin, God that’s the last thing he’d ever think of doing. 

But where Jeno hates this situation because he has to live a fake life with his ex-fiancé, Mark hates this situation because he’s putting his stepbrother in the hands of the man who broke his heart. 

At least, Mark thinks Jeno used to hate the situation.

He can’t be too sure now, not with the way Jeno has tender a hand on Jaemin’s thigh, thumb occasionally rubbing circles over the fabric of his pants. 

“I can tell,” Mark grumbles, taking Donghyuck’s cup from him and chugging down all the liquid inside, before Donghyuck could get a chance to complain. “I don’t like it.”

“Mark,” Donghyuck sighs, heading to pour more alcohol in his cup. 

Mark follows, just because he didn’t want to keep looking at Jeno and Jaemin. 

“I don’t think you can change Jaemin’s opinion on this one. After six months... He’s finally happy.”

  
  
  


»«

  
  
  


Jaemin wakes up holding Jeno's hand. 

He wakes up in bed, with the sun barely peeking up over the horizon and his head on Jeno's chest, leg over Jeno's hip and hand in Jeno's own. 

Jaemin feels warm. 

"What time is it?" He asks quietly, not moving a muscle, afraid he'd disturb the quaint and calm atmosphere between them. And if he liked the way Jeno's heart sounds right under his ear, that's a bonus. 

"5:12 in the morning," Jeno's quiet answer comes, his voice groggy and laced with fatigue. "Happy birthday, sweetheart." 

Without even trying to fight it, knowing there'd be no point, Jaemin smiles into the darkness of their bedroom. 

Birthdays have seemingly gotten better with Jeno to celebrate them with, and this year isn't any exception. They haven’t done anything yet, the day has barely started, but Jeno's simple presence next to him already makes this day special. 

Jeno doesn't have to do anything extravagant to make Jaemin fawn over him, the simple fact that he's always been by his side is enough. 

Waking up next to Jeno is enough. 

"Thank you, Jeno," he whispers, right into the skin of Jeno's neck, where he can't see, but can feel the dips of his collarbones. 

Jaemin knows Jeno's body inside out. All the dips and divots, the curves and planes. He knows the number of moles scattered down his chest and their exact locations. He knows that his right foot is slightly, very slightly bigger than his left foot, and that his fingertips always have calluses on them from playing the guitar. 

Jaemin likes to think he knows everything about Jeno, there's no need for secrets between them, after all. 

"What would you like to do?" Jeno asks, equally as quiet as his hand never lets go of Jaemin's. 

Jaemin always loved how Jeno found the smaller ways to touch him, versus how Jaemin would show off in a large way. Jeno always seems to find his hand under his sleeves, his hand always placed on the small of his back, sometimes wrapped around his waist. Jeno always presses their shoulders together and has their thighs touch when they're sitting next to each other, and Jaemin finds the smaller actions heartwarming. 

Especially recently. 

Since Jaemin has gotten out of the hospital, Jeno hasn't been able to stop touching him. Always in small ways, but way more frequently than what he used to do. Jeno always seems to be holding his hands, or always seems to be pressed right against him. When Jaemin isn't facing him, he always seems to be glued to his back. 

Jaemin wouldn't complain on a regular day, but he's told himself to be quiet about this one especially. 

He doesn't like to think about it, but he could've very well…  _ Died _ in that car accident, and he doesn't even begin to understand how stressful it must've been for Jeno, especially when he was so far away on a business trip during that time. 

If he were in Jeno's shoes, Jaemin would be scared of losing him too. 

So he keeps shut about how Jeno's more touchy than normal, deciding to simply bask in the affection and let the older boy know that he isn't going anywhere. 

Jaemin is here to stay, and one day, Jeno will realize that. 

"Can't we just stay in bed all day?" Jaemin sighs, enjoying the warmth of Jeno's body heat, as well as the cool air from the air conditioning and the sunshine starting to peek through the window curtains. 

Jeno never gets around to closing them.

"I don't think Donghyuck and Mark would appreciate that very much," Jeno answers, one of his hands slowly making its way to Jaemin's hair, almost as if it were tentative. 

Jeno's fingers gently put themselves into his hair, right at the scalp as he scratches lightly, pulling on the roots gently. 

Jaemin feels sleepy again, lulled away by how soothing Jeno's fingers are in his hair.

"Careful," Jaemin slurs, eyes already shut and body falling into slumber. "Don't pull too hard, my hair might fall out. You wouldn't wanna marry me if I was bald," he jokes, referencing how bleached and damaged his hair is. 

Ever since he was a student, Jaemin liked expressing himself through his hair colour. It started calmly at first, different shades of brown to replace the black atop his head, but then it went into blondes, pinks, purples and now he's at blue. No doubt, his scalp hates him, and his hair isn't healthy at all, but Jeno always said he didn't mind and that he looked handsome in any hair colour. 

Now though, as Jaemin is seconds away from falling asleep, Jeno says something else. 

"Even if you were bald, you'd still look beautiful. I’d still want to marry you because… 

"Because I don't think I can stop loving you, Na Jaemin." 

  
  
  


The next time Jaemin wakes up, Jeno is still beside him, but this time there's breakfast beside him too. 

Jaemin knows better than to assume that Jeno is the one who cooked it all. Granted, Jaemin won't discredit the knowledge Jeno does have in the kitchen, but it's nowhere near what's presented in front of him. 

"Happy birthday,"

It's the second time Jeno says this, but Jaemin's more aware when Jeno kisses his temple, muttering the words with his lips moving against his skin. 

"Thank you, Jeno," 

Jeno is sitting up on the bed, back against the headboard and legs laid out. Jaemin sits up next to him, careful not to rustle the bed too much and tip over the tray of food on Jeno's lap. 

Different bowls of different sizes are displayed on the tray; rice, stew, vegetables and beef. There's a cup of banana milk in the corner too, and Jaemin wonders if it could get any better than Lee Jeno. 

It may be what they do every morning on Jaemin's birthday, but every year, Jaemin is reminded just why he loves Jeno so much. 

"Eat with me," Jaemin says, picking up one pair of chopsticks and placing them in Jeno's hand. He takes the second pair into his own, balancing the tray between them. "You shouldn't skip breakfast." 

"Who said I was gonna skip breakfast?" Jeno mumbles, nonetheless picking up rice and putting it into his mouth. 

He'd rather let Jaemin get the first pick. 

"Hm, you shouldn't," Jaemin continues, digging into his own food. He's looking more at the dishes than he is at Jeno, which gives the latter the perfect opportunity to openly stare at him without feeling too weird. 

Jaemin, with all his pores, puffy eyes and swollen face. 

Jaemin, with all his messy hair and rumpled pyjamas. 

Jaemin, with all his chapped lips and oily nose. 

When did Jeno start appreciating all of these little things again? 

Instead of thinking about it, Jeno decides it’s smarter to move on from the internal conflict he's having. 

"What do you wanna do today?" 

Jaemin pretends to think, and Jeno pretends to wait. Jaemin always asks to do the same thing every year, simply asking to have Donghyuck and Mark over, just a little get together with his closest friends. He never really called Jeno's friends for his birthday, despite how close they all used to be. Or in Jaemin's head, how close they all are. 

Jeno never said anything about it, but he's aware enough to piece together that it's because he keeps his birthday intimate. 

"Donghyuck and Mark hyung coming over? They can bring food and we can get a cake," he says, saying the same thing he has for every birthday since they've started dating. "All I need is you guys. The people I love the most in this world."

Jaemin looks away from Jeno's face before he can see how stony it becomes, but Jeno guesses that's for the better anyway. 

It didn't matter if he hadn't celebrated a birthday with Jaemin in months.

It didn't matter if he didn't know how to celebrate Jaemin's birthday anymore. 

It didn't matter that having Donghyuck and Mark over would remind him of how... Simple things used to be. 

It didn't matter because this is Jaemin's twenty fifth birthday, and although theoretically the responsibility doesn't fall on his shoulders anymore, he won't let anything ruin Jaemin's birthday. 

  
  
  


Easier said than done, obviously. 

Because Mark and Donghyuck swarm Jaemin in affection and hugs, to the point where it makes it impossible for Jeno to so much as look in Jaemin's direction for more than twelve seconds. Showering him in gifts and food, and Jeno is left to clean up the messes they make. Pick up the plates and discarded mugs, pick up the forks and wipe the table. 

He doesn't mind though.

Because Jaemin shouldn't lift a finger on his birthday.

Jaemin shouldn't lift a finger ever, but if Jeno couldn't be there for that  _ 'ever' _ , he'd ensure it now. 

"Open your gifts!" He hears Donghyuck squeal, from where he's holed up in the kitchen. He didn't volunteer to do dish duty, he was going to tackle the task after Donghyuck and Mark had left, but alas, Donghyuck shoved him into the kitchen and handed him rubber gloves without a word before going back to where Jaemin was. 

It didn't need to be spelled out.

It was obvious he wasn't necessarily welcome.

Jeno brushes the thought away, scrubbing plates with the sponge in his hand to get rid of the greasy residue. 

"You almost done?" 

Jeno turns his head briefly, although he knows he doesn't need to. He'd recognize that voice anywhere, anyway. 

"Yeah, almost," he answers, looking down at the few plates and utensils he had to rinse the water off of. "What're you doing here?"

"I feel like I haven't seen you at all after breakfast," Jaemin whines, walking deeper into the kitchen. He stops when he's next to Jeno, wrapping his arms around the other's torso and perching his chin on Jeno's shoulder. "It's my birthday and you're hiding from me."

Jeno can't help but snort. 

"You can blame Donghyuck for putting me on dish duty. And Mark for giving the stink eye for not cleaning up,"

Jeno wouldn't say that he should blame Donghyuck and Mark for deliberately keeping him busy so that he wouldn't be spending too much time with them, but he didn't need Jaemin to think like that right now. 

"But don't worry. I'm done now, see?"

True to his words, Jaemin looks down in the sink to see that the dirty dishes are all gone, and when he looks back at Jeno, he's taking off his rubber gloves. 

"Come on, I didn't want to open the presents without you," Jaemin smiles, dragging Jeno out of the kitchen by the arm. 

He brings them both back to the living room where Mark and Donghyuck are conversing quietly, pausing when they see Jeno and Jaemin come into the living room. 

They watch in relative silence as Jaemin sits down next to Jeno on the couch, immediately lacing their fingers together. 

Mark looks away, Donghyuck can see from his peripheral, and he puts a smile on his face so as to not make the atmosphere weird. 

Even if it was unspoken, the one thing all three of them in the room could agree on, was that there were to be no funny business today. 

Not on Jaemin's birthday. 

"Open mine first," Donghyuck says, eager as he pushes a box into Jaemin's hands. 

Jaemin marvels at the pretty wrapping paper, yellow and floral, with hints of blue and purple here and there. 

"Duckie, this paper is really nice. Where'd you get it?" He asks, looking up at Donghyuck expectantly. 

Donghyuck knows the answer, of course he does. What he doesn't know is how to tell Jaemin. 

He knew Jaemin would like this wrapping paper, how could he not? How could he not like it when it was what he wrapped Donghyuck's birthday gift in last year? 

He made a joke about how jealous he was that he wasn't receiving a gift wrapped in this paper, so Donghyuck had been extra careful when unwrapping his gift, making sure to not tear the paper. 

He always wanted to gift it back to Jaemin, and he assumed it'd be a nice surprise since he wouldn't remember. 

The sparkle in Jaemin's eyes when he looks at the wrapping paper just proves Donghyuck's point. 

But it's hard to choke the words out, and answer Jaemin without letting his emotions get the best of him.

Not on Jaemin's birthday. 

"I can't really remember now," Donghyuck says apologetically, but one glance at Jeno's hard face and Mark's sympathetic expression lets him know that at least they know he's lying. "Just open your gift, you goof. It's just wrapping paper."

Donghyuck expected Jaemin to tear open paper like he normally does whenever he receives a gift, but when he gently peels the paper away, Donghyuck feels his heart break a little. 

"Oh Donghyuck," Jaemin gasps once all the paper is out of the way and he sees the box underneath it. "This place is expensive." 

Donghyuck shrugs, smiling gently as Jaemin opens the box. 

He pulls out a photo frame, one that's heavier than normal frames. There also isn't a hollow in the center of this one, but a screen. 

He puts the card aside on the coffee table for later, turning on the digital photo frame. As it turns on, a slideshow of memories starts to show up on the screen. Picture after picture, some dated back to years ago while others are as recent as a few months ago, if his blue hair in the pictures is anything to go by. 

Pictures of him and Mark, arms around each other's shoulders. Pictures of him and Donghyuck, kissing each other's cheeks. Pictures of the three of them together, of Jeno with the three of them, of the seven of them. 

They're all beautiful memories. 

It's quiet, as Jaemin looks through the photos playing, and the last one that comes up before the cycle repeats is one of him and Jeno kissing under the rain. 

He can hear Jeno suck in a sharp breath, but he doesn't really care for it, not when his heart feels a little bittersweet. 

As if sensing his mood, Donghyuck speaks quietly. 

"I know you don't like how you can't remember much right now," Donghyuck whispers, sending Jaemin a small smile. "But you loved taking pictures of everything, Jaem. Just look back on them and maybe your heart will feel lighter."

Despite not wanting it to, Donghyuck's voice cracks at the end of his sentence, and his vision starts to blur. 

Seeing his best friend looking upset, Jaemin frowns, gently placing his gift down on the coffee table. 

"I'm sorry," he frowns, and Jeno notices how he squeezes his hand tight. "I'm sorry I don't remember anything yet, it must suck, Donghyuck," he continues, his own voice starting to choke up. "I wish I could, I  _ really _ do. And I'm trying but... It's just... It's not coming back."

Jaemin sounds defeated, and looks the part too, if the way he ducks his head down and cries silently is anything to go by. 

"Oh Nana," Donghyuck cries, getting up from his seat and wrapping Jaemin in a tight hug. "I'm not mad at you. It's not your fault," he soothes through his own tears, patting Jaemin's back when the younger's hand comes to hold him around the waist. "It'll come back when it wants to Jaemin, no one's mad at you," he assures. 

"I want to remember too," Jaemin whispers, burying his head into Donghyuck's shoulder. "I'm sorry."

"Don't say sorry," Jeno cuts in, sounding firm. "You didn't do anything wrong."

Mark stares at Jeno for a second longer than he normally does, before also adding something in.

"It'll be okay, Jaemin-ah."

Ten minutes pass before Donghyuck and Jaemin calm down enough to laugh their tears off, and Mark takes that as his cue to hand Jaemin his gift. 

It's not wrapped in a box like Donghyuck's, in a bag instead. There's decorative tissue paper keeping what's inside hidden, and Jaemin pulls the card out first before removing the tissue paper. 

Everyone watches in silence, as Jaemin pulls out a rather large quilt. 

"It's so lovely," Jaemin smiles, eyes scanning over the multiple little squares. The more squares he looks at, the more apparent it becomes. "Are these your baby clothes?  _ My _ baby clothes?" 

Smiling, Mark nods his head. 

He looks a bit bashful when he looks at Jaemin, but he's still smiling.

"You're my brother Jaemin, doesn't matter if it's by blood or not. I know sometimes you second guess it, but you don't have to. We're the same family, Jaemin. We're family."

"Mark hyung," Jaemin says tearfully, eyes watering as he gets up to hug his brother. "I love you."

Mark smiles, but he knows Jaemin can't see it. 

"I love you too, Jaemin."

When Jaemin gets back to his seat, he carefully folds the quilt away, giving it a final fond gaze as he puts it back into the bag. 

"I love it," he mutters under his breath, but Mark manages to catch it, feeling happy with himself about his gift. 

"Here," Jeno mumbles, handing Jaemin a single, small box wrapped in plain red wrapping paper. 

It may be the smallest gift out of the three, but Jaemin's smile is the widest for this one. 

Just like the others, he takes his time, gently unwrapping the paper and opening the brand name-less box, opening his mouth in shock once he sees what's inside.

"You may be confused, we’re past that step I guess," Jeno mumbles, turning to face Jaemin completely. Whether it was to tune Donghyuck and Mark out, he doesn't know. All he knows is that he doesn't want any distractions. 

"A little," Jaemin admits, but he still smiles down at the gift, admiring how pretty it is. "What is it for?" 

"It's a promise ring."

Jaemin can't hide the confusion on his face anymore, tilting his head to the side as he looks up at Jeno with a furrow between his eyebrows and pout on his lips. 

_ Just like Jeno remembers.  _

Before Jaemin can ask the question that Jeno sees swimming in his eyes,  _ 'Promising what?' _ , he speaks.

"Sometimes, things won't always be easy," Jeno starts, looking down at the ring in the box. 

His matching one feels like it's burning a hole in his pocket. 

"We're gonna argue. We're gonna fight. We're gonna second guess things, if it gets really bad. 

"But I'm gonna love you, Jaemin. I'm gonna love you every second of it because I feel like that's my only purpose in life. I may have graduated university and I may be on the way to becoming a lawyer, but it doesn't feel like anything compared to loving you. 

"This is a promise, Na Jaemin. A promise that no matter what, no matter anything,  _ anything at all _ , I'm going to love you. Whether it be your secrets or mine, your fault or mine, your heart or mine, I'm going to love you for the rest of my life."

Jeno's eyes flicker to Donghyuck and Mark briefly, Donghyuck looking at him, speechless, and Mark looking at him, unimpressed. 

He pushes their gaze out of his mind, because this is about Jaemin. 

And nothing will ruin Jaemin's birthday. 

"These last few months have really shown me, Jaemin. I don't think I can truly be happy without you." 

  
  
  


When Donghyuck and Mark leave, albeit reluctantly, if the looks they shoot Jeno is anything to go by, Jaemin hugs Jeno tight. 

"I didn't get to say anything to you after your gift," he whispers into Jeno's shoulder. "But I love you, Jeno. I don't think anything can change that." 

Jeno doesn't know how to tell Jaemin that that did change, at some point. 

With a heavy heart, Jeno’s arms come to hold Jaemin close to him, pressing their bodies so close together that not even air could pass through them. 

Jeno loves Jaemin. 

Jeno doesn’t think he’s ever stopped loving Jaemin. 

Aggression, anger, and frustration were all secondary emotions. Maybe they all stemmed from him feeling incompetent, that he couldn’t salvage their relationship in time. His months of numbness rooted from not knowing when or how their relationship turned sour. 

Jeno walked away before he could try to piece them together one last time. 

Because Jaemin said he didn’t want him.

Jaemin said they were over, and even then, when it felt like an arrow had pierced through his heart, Jeno wouldn’t dare upset Jaemin more, intentionally. 

But saying it like that made it seem like he didn’t have any faults. It made it seem like he was the victim.

But he isn’t. 

He’s not, because they both are. 

“Jaemin, I mean it,” Jeno whispers, right against the younger’s ear. “I promise you, I love you. No matter what happens,  _ I love you. _ There’s a thousand things that may make you think otherwise, so I can’t, and  _ I won’t _ make you promise me anything back. But if things ever turn for the worse, I’ll just always need you to know that I love you.” 

“I don’t know where this is coming from,” Jaemin says, equally as quiet, not moving from his spot in Jeno’s arms, against Jeno’s shoulder. His heart pounds at Jeno’s words, fluttering as a swarm of butterflies attacks his stomach. He always feels like this around Jeno, and he never wants it to stop. “But I love you Jeno. I want to promise you that I’ll always love you.”

_ You can’t, _ Jeno thinks, squeezing his eyes shut and urging his emotions to get the best of him.  _ You don’t know it yet but you can’t always love me.  _

Not on Jaemin’s birthday. 

After that, it’s a quiet night of getting themselves ready for bed, fondness in their gazes and promises lingering in their touches. 

They don’t have the best track record with promises, but Jeno forgets about that for one night. 

Once they’ve crawled into bed together, and Jaemin is fast asleep in his arms, Jeno lets himself succumb to the thoughts that have been haunting him ever since Mark and Donghyuck had left. 

_ You can’t always love me. I think you want to, right now, but I know better than to take your words to heart. It’s not your fault you don’t know. But when you remember, maybe then I’ll be ready to finally let you go.  _

_ It doesn’t make sense, living happily without you by my side, but if it’s what will make you happy, then I don’t mind, Jaemin-ah.  _

_ Maybe I’m being selfish, but you’ve been forgetting everything for the past two months so please... Let me forget everything just for tonight.  _

Jeno presses a kiss to Jaemin’s forehead, lips trembling in an attempt to keep his sobs from coming out of his mouth. 

_ You can’t always love me.  _

_ Because when you remember, you’ll remember you didn’t love me when you wanted to break up. _

  
  
  


»«

  
  
  


"Honey, look here~"

If he hadn't been used to it, Jeno would've been annoyed. But it's Jaemin and he is used to it, so he simply turns to the camera with a lazy smile. 

The lens is closer to his face than he thought, but it's not unwelcome. Jaemin snaps three photos before pulling back, a satisfied smile on his lips. 

It's a sunny day, but it's not too hot, which was a shocker for August weather. The clouds have also made somewhat of an appearance, casting a light shadow over the park they've found themselves in. 

The flowers tickle his cheek, where he's laying on the grass, and the sky is a clear blue, behind Jaemin's head.  _ He looks like an ice lolly _ , Jeno thinks, blue against blue.  _ Sweet, just like Jaemin.  _

How fitting. 

"Oh, Jeno-ya, you're so handsome," Jaemin sighs, eyes still trained onto the digital display screen on the camera. 

"You're more handsome," he counters, just to watch the way Jaemin's eyes light up and cheeks darken with a red flush. 

Jaemin smiles, gently placing his camera down on the grass near their picnic basket, laying face to face next to Jeno. They're noses are only centimetres apart, and while there's a field of flowers behind Jeno and the expanse of the sky above him, Jaemin thinks that Jeno is the only sight worth looking at. 

"Hi,"

Jeno smiles, heart fluttering in his chest. 

"Hi, Nana,"

Giggling, Jaemin throws a leg over Jeno's hip, throwing the latter flat onto his back and sitting up straddling his thighs. 

Jeno thinks Jaemin looks like a goddess, sun shining behind him and cheeks perked up in a smile. 

"Stay still," he whispers, hands stretching out to reach for Jaemin's camera. He doesn't understand focus, lighting or things like that as good as Jaemin does, and he's rather intimidated by all the buttons and dials. So he leaves the settings on whatever Jaemin had them set as, and simply brings the camera up to his face, looking through the lens to capture Jaemin right in the middle, glowing in the afternoon sunlight. Satisfied, Jeno brings the camera down. "Beautiful." 

Jaemin doesn't say anything, only takes his camera out of Jeno's hands and puts it back near the basket. He continues to pull Jeno up by the shoulders, wrapping his arms around his neck once he's sitting up.

Wordlessly, Jeno's hands come to hold Jaemin around his waist, and at the same time, they both lean in until their lips meet in the middle. 

A soft press of a kiss at first, until Jaemin tilts his head to the side and Jeno presses his fingers harder into Jaemin's skin. Then it's Jaemin's tongue against the seam of Jeno's lips and Jeno's hands underneath Jaemin's t-shirt. 

Despite the sun shining down on them, the heat from their bodies is what makes them sweat, until Jaemin breaks away for oxygen. Jeno doesn't let him get too far though, kissing Jaemin's cheeks and forehead, peppering kisses down along his jaw, chin and neck. He can smell the younger's cologne and taste a hint of his sweat, but it's all so Jaemin that he couldn't bring himself to care. 

It's all the love of his life. 

"Jeno," Jaemin gasps, Jeno's tongue probing out to dip into the crevices of his collarbones. "The fruit is gonna get too warm," he points out, lolling his head onto Jeno's shoulder, curling in on the other's body. 

"Okay," Jeno whispers, pulling his lips off of Jaemin's skin, landing a final kiss to his cheek before leaning back. "Let's eat some fruit."

So they do just that, Jaemin getting off of Jeno's lap until they're sitting side by side, a bowl of cut up kiwis, mangos, pineapple, apples, watermelon and berries between them. 

It's relatively quiet between them, save for the occasional appreciative hum when the cool fruit slides down their throats to cool off their systems. 

"Let's have a fruit table at our wedding," Jaemin comments, staring at the flowers around them instead of Jeno. Maybe because he's shy, maybe because he's unsure, but for once, Jeno minds Jaemin not looking at him when talking about their supposed wedding. 

This is the one time Jeno doesn't let himself feel the looming reality behind Jaemin's words, and simply indulges the boy next to him. He can keep all his thoughts to himself, finding no reason to take them out on Jaemin, who's rather innocent up until now. 

"Yeah?" Jeno simply asks, poking the prongs of his fork into a mango cube. "With a chocolate fountain?" 

He doesn't have to look at Jaemin to know he's smiling.

"Yeah. A chocolate fountain." 

Within the next half hour or so, through murmured conversations and gentle touches, all the fruits have been eaten. Jeno is the one who puts the bowl and forks back into their basket, taking out water bottles right after. 

“Jeno, that cloud looks like a frog,” Jaemin notices, pointing a finger up at the sky. Jeno tries to follow where Jaemin is pointing, but for the life of him, can’t see a cloud that looks like a frog. 

So, he settles on saying the next best thing. 

“You look like a frog,”

Jaemin scowls, as he should, offended as he looks at Jeno.

“You’re marrying this frog, so I wouldn’t be too proud if I were you,” he retaliates, satisfied as he tilts his head up to look at the clouds again. 

“I guess that just means I have a thing for frogs,” Jeno sighs, too enchanted to realize the weirdness of his words. It takes a few seconds, but when it dawns on him, he scrunches his nose. “Okay no, never mind, that sounds gross.” 

Jaemin laughs, still looking up at the sky, amused by Jeno’s antics. His laugh could rival all the bright things laying in the field around them; the flowers, the sunshine, the small pond and even the butterflies. Because Jaemin’s laugh is more than all those, it’s more beautiful than it all. 

“Hey Nana,” he calls, reaching a hand out and cupping Jaemin’s cheek. It diverts Jaemin’s attention solely to him, and the younger hums, eyes gazing over all of Jeno’s facial features. “I love you.”

Even if it’s for a day, even if it’s for a few hours, Jeno will let himself indulge in the feeling of getting to be with Jaemin so freely again. He’ll indulge in getting to tell Jaemin his confessions this easily, to kiss him this easily. He didn’t know until he got the chance to, but he missed the warmth of Jaemin everywhere around him. He’s missed the presence of Jaemin whenever he’s so much as in the same room as him. He missed his taste and his smell, and everything about him. 

So even if it’s only for a while, even if it’s temporary, even if it’s under a lie, Jeno will let himself have this. 

Because underneath it all, this is the only way he can love Jaemin. 

“I love you too,” Jaemin grins, moving forward and kissing Jeno. He’s smiling into their kiss, to the point where it’s more teeth than anything else, but Jeno can tell it makes Jaemin so happy, with giggles escaping his lips between them, so Jeno guesses he doesn’t mind all the teeth either. 

Because he’s come to realize again that, more than anything, Jaemin’s happiness directly affects his own. 

“Ice cream?” Jeno mumbles against Jaemin’s lips, immediately earning another bright smile from the younger. 

“Yeah, let’s get ice cream,” he agrees, voice low in a whisper. He looks up at Jeno’s eyes under his eyelashes, unable to stop his hand from making its way to Jeno’s waist, holding him close and pressing a proper kiss on his lips. 

He’s enthusiastic, refusing to part and coming back for more every time he catches his breath. The continuous small kisses turn into longer and softer ones, with Jaemin’s grip tightening on Jeno’s waist and his eyebrows furrowing with all he wants to put into the kiss. 

“Excited?” Jeno chuckles when he finally manages to put some distance between them. 

Jaemin shrugs. 

“Just happy you’re with me.” 

Jeno’s smile softens, planting one last kiss on Jaemin’s forehead. 

“I’m happy you’re with me too, Jaemin-ah.”

Jaemin doesn’t want to think of the implications of those words, he could’ve very much  _ not _ been here right now, if things a few months ago played out differently. He doesn’t know how often Jeno thinks about it, but he hopes it isn’t too often. He can’t deny that sometimes it haunts him, the fact that so much was on the line, but he's somewhat glad that he can’t remember too much. 

If it’s possible, Jaemin doesn’t want to leave Jeno’s side ever again. 

With that thought in mind, Jeno helps him off of the grass, and he picks up their picnic basket too. It’s only around 7:00 in the evening, and the cool breeze shifts to something the tiniest note chillier as they walk hand in hand towards the car. 

“You’re a bit burned,” Jaemin notes when they’re both inside the car, Jeno in the driver’s seat this time. The air conditioning is on, blowing cool wind into the tiny space. “Just on your nose and arms,” he continues.

“Oops,” Jeno answers, driving out of the parking spot and parking lot. “Maybe you’ll have to kiss it better.”

Jaemin smiles to himself, amused. He doesn’t remember Jeno being this clingy before, but he doesn’t mind it. Sure, Jeno had his days where he demanded more affection than usual, but those days have started to become everyday. 

But again, Jaemin doesn’t mind, he’d give Jeno all the kisses he wants. 

It’s a silent drive to the ice cream shop, with the radio playing gentle music. Jeno’s hand rests in Jaemin’s two hands, the younger playing with his fingers and tickling his palm. 

“Ow— Jaemin!” Jeno whines, turning to glare at the younger boy a split second. “Stop cracking my knuckles.” 

Jaemin giggles, it’s a melodious sound, if Jeno’s being honest, but relents and turns to simply holding Jeno’s hand in his. He presses his thumb to the pulse on Jeno’s wrist, not too sure why. He’s always done it, something about it just seems comforting. 

They arrive shortly after, Jeno parking the car and the two exit. Almost like an instinct, Jeno moves to hold Jaemin by his waist, just something he’s always done. 

Much like Jaemin, he doesn’t know why. 

“Mint chocolate?”

“Rocky road?”

Chuckling because they’ve spoken at the same time, Jeno and Jaemin nod their heads either way. 

Just like always, Jeno knows that Jaemin’s favourite ice cream is rocky road, and Jaemin knows that Jeno’s favourite ice cream is mint chocolate. 

They order, Jaemin pays, and they make their way to sit on the picnic benches outside the front of the shop. It’s still relatively bright outside, the sun having yet to fully say goodbye. There’s an orange hue that falls onto everything, including Jaemin’s face, illuminating his side profile and giving him an ethereal glow. 

_ An angel, just like always.  _

“—But I don’t understand why, because it wasn’t in the original colour palette.” Jaemin finishes his story with a sigh, putting his spoon away in his now empty ice cream cup. 

He’s complaining about a client, there’s always a rotten one thrown in the bunch, and Jeno pretends that he’s able to sympathize. He doesn’t understand interior design and all that, much less the problems that come with it. The only thing he can somewhat understand is a bitchy client. Jeno’s seen his fair share of one too many of those. 

“But you still got the job done?” He asks, to which Jaemin shrugs and nods. 

“I gotta get paid,” he admits cheekily, stealing a scoop of Jeno’s ice cream from his cup. His face scrunches up in distaste. “Yuck.”

Rolling his eyes, Jeno sighs and eats the last bite of his ice cream. 

“You do this every time. You know the flavour is not gonna change just because you want it to,” he lightly chastises, earning a pout from Jaemin. Jeno has to hold himself back from cooing out loud, having a feeling that Jaemin wouldn’t necessarily appreciate it right now. 

“A man can dream,” the younger settles on saying. Jaemin sighs, perching his elbows on the table and resting his chin on his palm. “Tell me Jeno,” he starts, staring right into the older boy’s eyes. “Blue and silver? Or grey and gold?”

Perplexed, and slightly taken aback, Jeno pauses before answering. 

He doesn’t know what Jaemin is talking about, and tries to quickly wrack his brain for what he could be alluding. He comes up with nothing though, and settles on Jaemin simply asking him which colour palette he preferred. Sure, it was odd and completely out of left field, but Jeno guesses there could’ve been worse questions to be asked in the world. 

“Grey and gold is a nice combination,” he says, nodding. 

For some reason, Jaemin grins brightly at the revelation of Jeno’s answer. 

“I think so too,” he says softly, an almost dreamy look in his eyes. He looks particularly floaty, and where Jaemin always had doe-like eyes that held galaxies in them, today his eyes look like they’re housing all the clouds in the universe. 

“What’s it for? Design inspiration?” He asks, mirroring Jaemin’s position, elbows on the table and chin held in his palms.

“Something like that...” Jaemin whispers. “A colour scheme for our wedding.” 

Jeno stops breathing for a few seconds, unable to catch himself before his easygoing expression falls off of his face. 

Unfortunately, Jaemin seems to notice. 

“You always do this,” he frowns, sitting up straighter and putting his hands in his lap. Jeno doesn’t have to look at the younger’s hands to know his thumbs are twiddling themselves, as it’s a nervous tick of his. “You always freeze whenever I mention the wedding.”

Jeno feels his throat dry out, at a loss of what to say. 

For obvious reasons, mentions of the wedding slap him across the face and remind him of what the hell he’s doing, living in a house while paying rent for an apartment and wearing a promise and engagement ring when his fingers have been bare for months. 

It’s easy to ignore, when no one brings it up. It’s easy to ignore when it’s not there, obviously. And Jeno can’t blame Jaemin for mentioning it, how could he? He was excited and he didn’t have a reason to stay shut about it. 

In present time, Jeno guesses he took too long to answer, watching as Jaemin looks to the side and wraps his arms around himself. 

In the quietest voice, Jaemin whispers,

“Do you not want to marry me?” 

“Don’t think that,” Jeno immediately denies, firm with his tone. “Jaemin, I really want to marry you. It makes me happy to know that you’re going to be my husband one day,” he assures, swallowing the bit of guilt which crawls up his throat at his words. He doesn’t need to think about it now. “Don’t second guess it ever, okay? You’re the only boy I want to marry.”

Reluctantly, Jaemin nods, and looks back at Jeno. His lips are still pressed into a thin line, but his eyes are a bit unsure. Jeno wants to fix that. 

“Then why do you... Do  _ that _ ?” He asks defeatedly, gnawing on his bottom lip.

Another nervous tick. 

“It just catches me off guard,” he explains. “I still can’t believe I get to marry you.”

It’s not a lie per se, this is what he used to act like before too. Every time Jaemin used to mention the wedding, it’d take him a few seconds to remember that this was reality and that it really was happening. Although it wasn’t the case anymore, he can’t necessarily explain that to Jaemin. 

“We’ve been engaged for two years,” Jaemin sighs, and as he says it, it dawns on him. 

A panicked look washes over his face, and now he looks scared when he next speaks. 

“Is it because I can’t remember? Did we already plan it all and I don’t remember any of it?” 

Jeno feels his heart break a little in his chest. 

“Jaemin,” he starts, reaching across the table and taking one of the younger’s hands in his own hand. “Baby, please stop psyching yourself out like this. I’m not mad at you for not remembering, you can’t help it,” he assures, tone sincere as he tries his best to convey to Jaemin that he’s being honest. “I’m just so glad that you’re here right now.”

Jeno ignores how the words feel funny in his heart, knowing he wouldn’t have really meant them if this was months ago. 

“I really want to,” Jaemin pleads, hands squeezing Jeno’s tightly. “I really want to remember but it’s just—  _ It’s not _ — I don’t know Jeno,” he frustratedly admits, head dipping down in shame. “I don’t like it. I don’t know.” 

Jeno gets up from his seat, sitting down next to Jaemin instead. He wraps an arm around his shoulder and holds him close, keeping their joined hands pressed against their hearts, just a little something for reassurance.

“It’s okay,” Jeno shushes, feeling Jaemin shudder against his chest. He kisses the younger’s forehead, letting Jaemin rest his head on his shoulder. 

“I’m sorry,” Jaemin whimpers, curling more in on himself. “I’m sorry it’s not coming back.” 

Jeno sighs, but doesn’t say anything else for a while. He lets Jaemin calm down, breathing coming back to normal and no longer hiding himself from Jeno. 

“You know,” Jeno starts, looking into the younger’s eyes once he moves his head from his shoulder. “Even if you never do remember... I still love you. I still want to marry you, and I still think you’re amazing, sweetheart.”

Jaemin shakes his head, just a bit in awe of how magical Jeno’s words sound. They sound like something he could’ve only ever dreamed of hearing, but listening to Jeno now, it makes him realize that Jeno is a dream.

His dream came true. 

“I love you,” Jaemin simply pouts, kissing the older boy’s cheek. 

Jeno smiles.

“I love you too. Wanna look at the stars now?” He asks with a grin, knowing that the little lights in the sky always brightens the younger’s mood. 

It was already in their itinerary anyway. 

“I already have my star with me,” Jaemin smiles cheekily, earning laughter from Jeno. Either way though, he agrees. 

So they make a quick drive back to the house, putting the picnic basket away and heading to their backyard. Similar to the park, Jaemin and Jeno lay down next to each other, looking up at the sky which is now illuminated by thousands upon thousands of tiny stars. 

“Make a wish,” Jeno teases. 

“Don’t have one,” Jaemin admits blissfully, fully immersed into the beauty of the sky. 

Jeno turns his head to look at him, fully immersed in the beauty of  _ Jaemin _ , and finds it hard to breathe at just how breathtaking he is. 

If Jaemin feels Jeno’s haze on him, he doesn’t say anything. 

“There’s nothing more I could want,” Jaemin continues softly, smiling up at the sky. “I’m happy, Jeno-ya. So happy.”

  
  
  


»«

  
  
  


Jaemin wakes up extra early, on September 16th, bubbles erupting in his stomach when he steps out of the bedroom. 

It's their anniversary. 

Jeno is still asleep, tucked away in their blanket and hugging the pillow Jaemin used replaced himself with. Maybe it's not as warm as his body was, but Jeno was dead to the world whenever he was asleep. 

It's with tiny and quiet steps that Jaemin makes his way to their kitchen, surveying their pantry and refrigerator. Maybe it would've been smarter to plan out what to cook for breakfast the night or day before, but here Jaemin is, trying to make sense of what he can cook using eggs, butter, meat and sugar. 

Maybe he'll just make waffles. 

Admittedly, he doesn't like waffles as much, and Jeno likes pancakes more, but they had pancakes two days ago and waffles come in a close second for Jeno, so he guesses it's the right decision. 

He quickly looks up a recipe, bringing out the waffle iron and plugging it in. He takes out the oil spray to grease the iron with, and a mixing bowl for the batter. 

Thankfully, every ingredient the recipe calls for is available, although some of it is tucked deep inside the pantry and on the brink of being expired. It  _ isn't _ though, which gives Jaemin enough assurance to measure out the required quantity and add it to the mixing bowl. 

It doesn't take long to make the batter, but now Jaemin is trying to figure out how to make the perfect waffle every time. He doesn't use the waffle iron often, and he needs everything to be perfect. Nothing can go wrong today, and he won't let anything go wrong. 

It takes two burned waffles for Jaemin to get the timing and temperature right, but after that it's a smooth sail to eight perfectly golden waffles displayed on a plate. Jaemin's kind of proud of them, but he has to remind himself that it doesn't end there. 

Jeno likes fruit, chocolate and whipped cream with his waffles, and despite all that, he has the audacity to say Jaemin is the one who has a bigger sweet tooth between the two of them. 

Nonetheless, he cuts the strawberries in halves, washes blueberries, and slices up kiwis and bananas. He serves each fruit in their own individual bowl, and takes out the whipped cream and chocolate syrup from the fridge. 

He guesses he should fry up some bacon to cut through all the sweetness, and he decides to do just that when it nears the time for Jeno to wake up. 

Jeno always wakes up to the smell of bacon, and this only further strengthens why Jaemin calls him a puppy. 

Just about when everything is plated and set on the table, Jaemin hears footsteps padding into the kitchen. 

He turns around after he places the final glass onto the table, to see Jeno gaping at the display in front of him. 

"Happy anniversary!" Jaemin greets, opening his arms up for a hug. 

With slow and somewhat groggy steps, Jeno walks into Jaemin's arms and reciprocates his hug, giving him a good morning kiss when he pulls away. 

"Happy anniversary," Jeno greets back, minding clearing up and becoming more aware. He smiles lovingly at Jaemin, who beams under the older boy's eyes. "I love you."

Jaemin has taken notice of Jeno constantly throwing around that statement every chance he got, and it was different from the Jeno he remembered. The Jeno who was awkward with his feelings and took a really long time to accept the big confession slipping from his lips. The Jeno he remembers doesn't add  _ 'I love you' _ to the end of every other thing he says, but Jaemin would be lying if he said it didn't melt his heart. He also sometimes thinks that maybe Jeno had simply been like this for a while, and that he just couldn't remember it. 

"I love you too," Jaemin grins, pecking Jeno's lips again shortly before leading him to the table. "I made us waffles and bacon!" 

"You're the best, did you know that?" Jeno sighs, excitedly sitting down on a chair. Jaemin sits down adjacent to him, and shrugs. 

"I may have heard it here and there." 

They then continue to eat comfortably after that, conversation flowing easy between them as they finish their breakfast.

"Jeno-ya," Jaemin jumps when they're both done eating, grabbing Jeno's hand over the table. "Let's go ride our bikes. And have dinner somewhere nice," he says, and like always, his eyes are too sparkly for Jeno to say no. How is he expected to, when Jaemin looks at him like that? 

Jaemin's smiles and galaxy eyes have always been Jeno's weakness, and if the younger boy does know that fact, he uses it to his advantage all the time. But Jeno could never bring himself to be mad, not when Jaemin was just so cute. 

"Is that what you'd like?" Jeno asks, running his thumb over Jaemin's knuckles. The latter nods enthusiastically, so Jeno simply smiles back just as bright. "Then that's what we'll do."

Jaemin leaps up happily, pressing a wet and sticky kiss, courtesy of the chocolate syrup, onto Jeno's cheek. 

"Clean up while I shower," is all Jaemin says before skipping away to their bedroom, deaf to the scoff Jeno lets out behind him. 

He doesn't mind though, easily picking up their empty dishes and dumping them all in the sink. He puts on rubber gloves and gets to washing, lost in his thoughts when he listens closely to the sound of the water streaming from the tap. 

He sighs, letting the smile fall off of his face. 

What is he doing? 

What is he doing, celebrating five years with Jaemin when they've been broken up? 

What is he doing, celebrating five years with Jaemin when the latter can't remember half of their relationship? 

What is he doing, celebrating five years with Jaemin when they broke off their engagement? 

What is he doing,  _ living a lie? _

Jeno doesn't like to think about it that way, never likes to think about him living a lie. But just because he doesn't think about it doesn't mean it's not true, especially when whenever he's left alone with his thoughts, it's all he can think of. 

He's not supposed to be in this house right now, washing the dishes as Jaemin showers upstairs to prepare himself for a day spent together. Jeno isn't supposed to be spending anymore days with Jaemin in the first place. 

He doesn't want to be this dampened over their supposed anniversary together, but he can't help but feel more guilty than he has in months over this. He can pretend that the ugly feeling isn't clawing away at his heart for as long as he wants, but it only makes the inevitable pain harder to bear, just like now. 

It's hard to be so enthusiastic about a date he shouldn't be going on. 

It's hard to be so enthusiastic about a day he shouldn't be celebrating. 

It's hard to be so enthusiastic about a boy he shouldn't be with. 

And it isn't a sacrifice at all on his end, but he pushes it all aside. Because Jaemin deserves to be enthusiastic and feel happy, to be overjoyed and to bubble with love. 

Jeno used to take immense pride in being the one to provide Jaemin with all those feelings, but now it just feels superficial when he thinks about it too much. 

Now it just feels like a ticking time bomb, Jeno just waiting for Jaemin to regain his memories and remember all the nastiness of their relationship.

Jeno's just waiting for Jaemin to see all their downs, all their lows and all their arguments. It isn't always the marshmallows and fluff Jeno is trying his hardest to provide right now, granted it's easier after he acknowledged how his heart hadn't stopped beating for Jaemin. 

And he thinks his heart will always beat for Jaemin. It doesn't mean that Jaemin's has to beat for him too, but he'll always appreciate the times when it did. 

So for now, he'll savour Jaemin's heart beating for him for the last time.

  
  
  


It's not too hot in the September weather, rather pleasant instead. The wind blows cool and refreshing air in their faces as they bike on a trail, even when they struggle a bit with going uphill. 

It takes them both back to their college days, when they had a bit more free time to simply lay back and go on bike rides multiple times a week. Even if they were short and just a lap around campus, they were always cherished as time alone for the two of them. It was an inexpensive and solely personal date, and Jaemin can't even count how many times they've biked together on all appendages. 

Right now, Jeno is ahead of him and waiting at a fork in the trail, smirking when Jaemin catches up to him, panting. 

"My quads aren't made for this anymore," Jaemin groans, stepping off of his bike for a minute to stretch his legs. 

"You're making it sound like you're older than you are," Jeno giggles, clapping Jaemin on the shoulder. "We can have a nice bath when we get home if you'll need it," he offers, already mounting his bike again. 

Jaemin internally groans at how short their break was, but then registers Jeno's words. 

"We?" He asks.

"Sure. Why not?"

Jeno winks at him before speeding off, leaving Jaemin to splutter at his audacity before rapidly mounting his own bike and pedalling after him. 

"You suck, Lee Jeno!" Jaemin yells to him, halfway cut off by his laughs as he sees Jeno cast a glance at him over his shoulder. 

Jeno sticks out his tongue, and oddly enough, Jaemin feels his heart swell. 

They finish their lap around the trail and then go for another before they're really burnt out, slowly riding side by side as they make their way back to the where they parked the car. 

After loading their bikes on properly, Jaemin turns to Jeno and gives him a big, long, and sweaty hug. 

"Jaemin," Jeno groans, attempting to push the younger away. But Jaemin stands his ground, simply tightening his arms around the other. "Seriously, you're hot and sweaty. This is uncomfortable." 

"I love you," 

Jeno sighs, unable to fight the stupid smile which crawls onto his face. 

Jaemin's confessions, Jaemin's hugs, Jaemin's smiles, it's all detrimental. They all push past whatever Jeno had tried to put up around his heart, every time. 

It's not even like Jeno doesn't hear him say this a lot, he hears it all the time, even more so with how frequently Jeno himself has been saying the three words. 

But it still renders him useless, pathetic, because all it takes is for Jaemin to easily say three words, and he's putty in the younger's palms. 

Maybe that's the scary part about when the truth will be discovered. Jeno will end up doing whatever Jaemin wants, when the time comes. 

Just like he did when they broke all those months ago. 

It feels like centuries ago, when he looks back on it now, but he knows it hasn't even been a year since they've split. 

Maybe time is passing by slower than usual because of the fact that Jeno is pausing his life, pausing the routine he's crafted for himself within the six months they haven't been together. 

It feels like a pause. Like a stop to everything he'd forced himself to learn. 

The thing about the pause button though, is that eventually, you'll have to press play. 

And when Jaemin presses play, Jeno... 

Jeno doesn't know what he'll do.

"I love you too,"

It's easy to say because it's the truth. It's easy to reciprocate because he's not lying about how he feels. 

Jeno knows loving Jaemin will be easy, no matter what happens to them. 

But holding him won't. 

Kissing him won't. 

Going on bike dates with him won't. 

Jeno remembers a time when their relationship was anything but easy. A time where their dynamic was everything except easy. 

He wonders if it would've been possibly to be together this easily, if they hadn't split ways.

  
  
  


Dinner is a simple affair, mainly consisting of a restaurant that they both frequent and are fond of. It's a lovely meal and even lovelier time together, if both of them were being honest. 

The only thing that was slightly less than lovely was the way Jaemin had taken his hands over the table, similar to what he did that morning, and given him a whole speech on promising to stay together until they're both old and wrinkly. 

Jeno wants that with Jaemin too, but he doesn't think Jaemin knows that his promise will be broken sooner or later. 

This time, it's hard to put on a smile. It's hard to push the corners of his lips up and nod his head to every cotton filled promise Jaemin had made, to look him in the eyes when he spewed sap into his ears. 

But he takes them all, because if he listens closely enough to just the sound of Jaemin's voice, if he listens closely enough to drown out all his thoughts, he can hear a future. 

Jeno hears a future where they're together and not on different islands because of the lies between them. 

A future where they're both paying mortgage again and where the cats never left. 

A future where they never took the rings off their fingers. 

The way Jaemin promises this future, he makes it sound like it's within their reach. He doesn't make it sound like it's far away, he doesn't make it sound like there's mountains to cross before they can achieve this future. 

He makes it seem easy. 

And Jeno is reminded, once again, that loving Jaemin is easy. 

It's the easiest thing in the world to him.

Perhaps that's also why it was so easy for them to fall apart too. 

"I promise," 

Jeno promises, because he does. He wants a future with Jaemin, and if circumstances were different, maybe they’d be able to achieve this future. 

Jeno promises, because even if he may not be able to keep it for too long, it'll always rest in his heart. 

Jeno promises, because he knows the end is coming soon. He can't lie to himself to say that Jaemin is never going to gain his memories back, because although the possibility is there, Jeno can feel something telling him that soon, it'll be time to let go.

But he doesn't want to let go. 

This time, Jeno doesn't want to let go of Jaemin's hand, or Jaemin's heart, or Jaemin's love. 

Jeno doesn't want to let go of Jaemin. 

Jaemin promises because he doesn't know any better. 

Jeno promises because they're the only things he can hold onto. 

After splitting the bill for dinner and making their way out the front doors, Jaemin grabs Jeno's hand as they make their way back to the car. They had to park a street down because of the limited parking space, but they both agreed that the food was worth it. 

"Did you know that—"

"Jaemin!"

Jaemin doesn't register much after Jeno yells his name, only a ringing and painful sensation in the back of his head. 

He registers Jeno's arms around him a second later, and then that he's pressed against a post at an intersection. 

"You have to check both ways before you cross Jaemin, Christ," Jeno says shakily, willing his heart to stop thumping madly in his chest. 

Although he wasn't there when Jaemin got into his first car accident, this one would've been similar, if it weren't for Jeno seeing that the light hadn't turned green yet and pulling Jaemin back. 

Admittedly, it could've gone smoother with Jeno being a bit more careful himself and preventing Jaemin from hitting the back of his head against the stoplight post, but all that he really cares about right now is that fact that Jaemin is safe in his arms. 

However, the lack of response is worrying Jeno. 

"Baby, are you okay?"

And then,

" _ Don't _ call me baby." 

Jeno can tell from the tone of Jaemin's voice, that his bad feeling had been right. It was to happen sooner or later, and it happened sooner. 

Jeno doesn't know if he's grateful for that or not. 

"Jaemin—"

"Get your fucking hands off of me!" Jaemin yells, and Jeno, out of fear of causing a scene, immediately unwraps his arms from Jaemin, finally seeing his face. 

His angry face.

The face he's been so used to seeing smiling and pouting, the face he's been so used to seeing giggling and laughing, the face he's been so used to seeing everyday for the past few months. 

That exact face, which isn't smiling at him anymore, which isn't staring adoringly at him anymore, which isn't holding the galaxies in his eyes anymore. 

Instead, Jaemin looks angry. 

And Jeno is reminded of why he hated to see Jaemin angry, once again. 

"Jaemin,  _ please _ ,"

Jeno doesn't know what he's pleading for. Maybe for a chance to be heard out, maybe for a chance to explain, maybe for a chance to deal with this all before it gets blown out of proportion.

Or maybe it's been blown out of proportion since day one. 

Maybe it's been out of proportion since Jeno moved back in, since Jeno started sleeping next to Jaemin again, since Jeno started falling back into the old routine. 

_ What was he thinking?  _

Holding Jaemin close in bed, kissing him in the evenings and slipping another ring onto his finger.

_ Why did he ever think this would work?  _

Why did he ever think happiness was promised when the only reason they're back together is because of a lie? 

"You lied to me," Jaemin seethes, looking at Jeno with something the latter had never seen in his eyes. "You all lied to me! You put your hands on me when you knew we were over, you slept in my bed, you lived in my house!" Jaemin lists off, growing more and more infuriated with each word. 

Jeno gulps, at a loss of what to say. 

He can't defend himself. 

He did do all those things. 

And he doesn't think Jaemin is in the right headspace to listen to his reasoning, to listen to how he felt like he didn't have another choice. He doesn't think Jaemin will listen to him if he tries to explain how emotionally vulnerable he was when he woke up from surgery. He doesn’t think Jaemin will listen to him when he tells him that the pictures were still up, that his desk was still intact, that the wedding invite was still displayed. 

So he doesn't. 

Because as humiliating as it is, Jeno would rather take all of Jaemin's accusations right here, right now, rather than try to justify himself and distress Jaemin even further. 

That could wait for another time. 

If there'll even ever be another time. 

"Who gave you the right?" Jaemin spits, eyes dark as he shifts his gaze to Jeno's hand, which remains unmoving at his side. His eyes catch his ring glistening in the setting sunlight, and he laughs humorlessly. "Did you think a new promise would fix everything?  _ 'No matter anything, anything at all, I'm going to love you.'  _ News flash Jeno! All you ever fucking do is break your promises!”

Jeno knows Jaemin’s words are meant to hurt, but he knows that what he’s feeling could never amount to what Jaemin is feeling right now. How confused, hurt and angry Jaemin is feeling. 

“You should’ve stayed away,” Jaemin continues, taking a step closer to Jeno and ignoring how they’re still in public. “You should’ve left me the hell alone, as if I’d ever want you back in my life!” 

Another arrow to the heart, but Jeno guesses he deserves it. 

“I’m not a charity case, Lee Jeno, I didn’t need your pity. Just because I  _ couldn’t _ remember anything doesn’t mean I  _ wanted _ to remember you!”

And from this close, Jeno can see that Jaemin’s eyes are getting teary with anger, and can see the red rims forming out of frustration. 

No matter what, it seems like Jeno always makes Jaemin cry. 

Despite his intentions, he guesses he’s always the reason for the tears streaming down the younger’s face. 

“Are you satisfied? Were you not happy messing with me the first time? Did you come back to make it hurt more? Was it fun seeing me in love with you like a fool?” Jaemin sobs, jabbing his fingers into Jeno’s chest. 

It hurts, but not as much as the bullets spilling from Jaemin’s mouth. 

It hurts to know that this is what Jaemin thought of him, but he knew that when the truth came out, it wouldn’t be pretty. 

“Fucking answer me!”

And maybe Jeno could’ve chosen his words more carefully. 

Maybe he could’ve given himself a second to think over his words before he spoke. 

Maybe he could’ve stayed silent, because it probably would’ve been better than,

“I love you,”

A heartbreaking sob ripped through Jaemin’s throat, and if Jeno wasn’t already going to cry from the mess he's made of them, he is now. 

Jeno never wants to hear such a vulnerable sound from Jaemin ever again. 

“No you don’t! You don’t fucking love me, Jeno! You’re an asshole! You’re a monster and  _ you don’t care about me!”  _

It’s all so wrong, it’s all way too wrong that Jeno can’t stay still anymore, he can’t help but shake his head and let his tears slip because  _ it hurts him too.  _

“No, Jaemin, I love you. I love you so much it hurts,” he confesses, probably barely coherent through his tears, but he doesn’t pay that any mind. “Yes I’m an asshole, maybe I’m a monster, but I care about you. I care about you Jaemin.”

Jaemin shakes his head, scoffing. 

“All you do is lie Jeno,” he sniffs, getting close to Jeno again, poking his finger to his chest once more. “Get it together, get it through your thick fucking skull. We  _ broke up  _ Jeno. We’re  _ not _ getting married, we’re  _ not _ engaged, we’re  _ not _ together and you’re  _ nothing _ to me!” 

Jeno is openly crying now, shaking his head with every word which leaves Jaemin’s mouth because  _ it can’t be.  _

It can’t be like that, it can’t be that they’re not getting married, they are engaged, and they’re together. 

Aren’t they? 

“No,” Jeno whimpers, the thought of breaking up with Jaemin again hurting his heart in a way he didn’t know was possible. He knew he said he’d do anything Jaemin had asked for, but this is too much. This is what he should’ve done the first time round, stand his ground, and he curses himself everyday for not doing so. In the back of his mind, he knows it’s too late now, but he can’t help but try. “No, I want to marry you. You’re my fiancé and we’re going to wear brooches on our wedding day—” He can’t finish, but off by his tears and cries which crawl up and out of his throat. “You wanted grey and gold and a fruit table and—” 

“I don’t want any of that!” Jaemin cuts off, feeling overwhelmed with everything Jeno had just thrown at him. He sobs himself, unable to keep the sound down. “I don’t want anything with you. I’ll never be happy with you, you jerk!”

“Yes you will!” Jeno cries, he too, overwhelmed. “Because I love you. I love you, and you love me. Let’s get married Jaemin-ah, I want to marry you.” 

Jaemin doesn’t immediately say anything, and the silence forces Jeno to calm down a little so that he can pay attention to what Jaemin’s doing. 

Once his vision clears up, he wishes it hadn’t. 

Because now he’s forced to watch Jaemin, standing in front of him with tears staining his cheeks, eyes red and looking absolutely devastated. 

He’s forced to watch as Jaemin takes the ring off his finger. 

He’s forced to watch as Jaemin rips his necklace off. 

He’s forced to watch as Jaemin throws the two items at him. 

“Go to Hell, Lee Jeno.”


	2. Chapter 2

Jaemin’s hands are shaking when he makes it back to his car, shaking when he opens the driver’s door, shaking when he sits down and lets the silence consume him. 

The only sounds in the tight confinements of the car are Jaemin’s ragged breathing and pathetic cries. 

It feels like their breakup all over again. 

It feels like daggers are repeatedly being stabbed into his heart, it feels like the knives are twisting every second without a pause, it feels like never ending torture. 

When will Jeno stop torturing him? 

Out of frustration, Jaemin slams his fist onto the horn, emitting a loud honking noise, but he pays no mind to it. Instead, he cries out louder, his hand now stinging slightly. 

His mind is a mess, his brain a whirlwind off all the things he’s forgotten, all coming back to him at once. All the birthdays, anniversaries, Christmases and Valentine’s Days. The days spent with Jeno, the days spent with Donghyuck, the days spent with Mark. The days spent with Renjun, the day spent with Chenle, the days spent with Jisung. The days spent with the seven of them. 

Jaemin remembers it all, and he doesn’t know if it’s more painful, reliving everything for the second time or not. 

He remembers. 

He remembers his arguments with Jeno becoming more frequent, sending Jeno to sleep on the couch, staying late hours at the office because he didn’t want to be around Jeno, afraid they’d start arguing again. He remembers cooking dinner as apologies when he was in the wrong and Jeno bringing home flowers when he was in the wrong. 

The days upon endless days where Jeno would pack up his life in boxes, half the house practically. He’d do everything without so much as sparing Jaemin a second glance, and he remembers feeling helpless, even then. 

Jeno didn’t fight. 

Jeno walked away.

Maybe he  _ wanted _ to walk away.

It was with that thought that Jaemin remembers the nights that seemed to drag on forever, not used to the coldness seeping between the sheets, not used to arms not holding him tight, not used to not hearing another human’s breathing. 

The nights that never seemed to end, with his wrenching sobs cutting through the air, unabashed because there wasn’t anything to hide from, Jeno took the cats too.

Waking up to an empty bed, waking up to no one in the kitchen, waking up to no cat fur on the carpet. It was all too different too soon, and Jaemin remembers feeling helpless every single day.

He remembers spending days on days just rolled between the blankets, ignoring the doorbell ringing and his cellphone buzzing.

He remembers not getting out of bed to even eat, to drink water, to shower or to even draw the curtains back. 

He remembers when Mark and Donghyuck had finally grown concerned enough to use Mark’s spare key and open the front door, rushing to find Jaemin in the dark bedroom, around crumpled sheets. 

Jaemin remembered it only taking their faces for him to break out into heavy sobs once again, scared and helpless when they both wrapped their arms around him and provided words of comfort and warmth. 

Donghyuck slept in the bed with him for a month after that, and it was the closest thing to a relaxed sleep he’s had in weeks. Sure, he used to wake up and think it was Jeno next to him before he became fully aware, and those normally led to crying his eyes out at the remembrance of reality, but it was nice to have warmth next to him again.

Mark would help him with meals, seeing that Jaemin still didn’t have the motivation to get out of bed, despite Donghyuck and Mark’s presence. It wasn’t easy at first, a lot of different foods reminding him of Jeno and times they’ve shared. His appetite had also decreased immensely, and it took a month before he could eat like he used to. 

Donghyuck had started pestering him about showering, which was a hassle at first. Jaemin remembers not having the energy to pull himself out of bed, much less stand under the spray of water for some time. 

Even then, Donghyuck had been insistent, leading to him showering with Jaemin for a week before Jaemin started getting back into the routine. 

Jaemin remembers it being the lowest low of his entire life; his boyfriend breaking up with him, his cats moving out, his engagement broken, promises left unfulfilled and remnants of Jeno scattered all over the house.

The house!

Jaemin remembers the house being a pain in the ass for a while, seeing as after he’d gotten back to work after fixing himself up with the help of Mark and Donghyuck, the mortgage payments dawned on him. 

It was easier to pay when Jeno’s income was also contributing, but there wasn’t any of that. 

Jaemin remembers having to work his ass off, day and night to get promoted so that he could manage to pay for his house on his own. The car payments were another headache, but thankfully after acquiring the promotion, the car expenses have been covered as well. 

It was an absolutely horrible three months, losing everything he’s ever known and then mourning the loss as pathetically as he could’ve, it having to have taken Mark and Donghyuck to get him back on his own two feet. 

But he’s never felt more accomplished in life. Because as much as he was stuck in a ditch in every sense possible, he had managed to get out. He had managed to pull himself together, and Jaemin had been so proud of himself. 

Because of that extra confidence, the next step was to erase Jeno’s existence from the house. 

Easier said than done, because when it actually came down to the boxes and garbage bags in hand, Jaemin found it close to impossible to even take a single photo frame down. 

Every time he tried to remove anything Jeno related from the walls, from the shelves, from the counters, he’d break down in tears, heart aching with how he wanted the older boy’s presence back. He longed to hear Jeno’s voice again, to hold him again, kiss him again and fall asleep next to him again. 

It took more than a few tries to finally take down photos from the walls, but he only got through half of them before he couldn’t stand the sight of the bare walls. 

It shouldn’t be like that. The walls shouldn’t be empty, they were supposed to hold their memories. Their years spent together, important dates and items of symbolism. 

Jaemin remembers stopping halfway, the earlier memories too painful to take down. It hurts to see them everyday, but he knows it would’ve hurt even more if they weren’t there at all. 

Little vases and trinkets were what Jaemin packed away next, each little object narrating a story of how it came to be in the house. Needless to say, it took a long time before Jaemin could pack the boxes away and tuck them into the closet of the office room. 

That was another thing Jaemin remembers not being able to pack away; all of Jeno’s work things. Obviously, the latter had taken all of the more important things with him, but he left things like pens and sticky notes, empty file folders and binders. 

Jaemin sat in the office room for an hour crying, unable to touch anything on the desk. 

That had taken him back to crawling into bed after an emotionally taxing day, pressing his hand under his cheek and then realizing that he had yet to take off his engagement ring. 

Despite wanting to,  _ because he isn’t engaged anymore,  _ Jaemin thinks that not wearing it would truly mean that it’s over, would only emphasize that he doesn’t have Jeno as his fiancé anymore. For that reason, he strings the ring onto a thin metal chain, and leaves it on as a necklace. 

It’s easy to wear like that, since it was a simple band with three diamonds encrusted into it, not as flashy as others. 

They had agreed to invest in stunning wedding rings anyway. 

At present time, Jaemin can’t find it in himself to calm down and regulate his breathing, not when he just re-lived his entire breakup with Jeno. He knows he can’t drive home like this, but more than that, he knows he can’t even call Donghyuck or Mark to come drive him home. 

They had lied to him too. They had let Jeno back into his life after knowing all the ins and outs of what he had done to him. It almost hurts the same amount, and Jaemin knows he wouldn’t be able to hold it in if he saw either of them. As much as he wants to lash out at them and reprimand them for letting Jeno waltz back into his life like he still had a place, he knows he wasn’t in the right headspace for that. 

Thus, leaving him with the only other option available.

With shaky fingers and a blurry eyesight, Jaemin takes out his phone and dials nine digits he’s surprised he hasn’t forgotten, bringing the speaker up to his ear as the line rings. 

Surprisingly enough, the line connects on the second ring.

“ _ Park Jisung _ ,” Jaemin sobs, unable to stop it from tumbling past his lips, or from calling out the other’s name before he even got a  _ ‘Hello?’ _ from the other side. “I’m gonna kill your friend.” 

“Jaemin hyung?” 

The sound of the younger’s deep voice, which he hadn’t heard in months, is enough for Jaemin to cry out. 

“Jisung-ah,” he calls, breath stuttering and gasping every few seconds. “You love your hyung, don’t you?” 

When Jaemin doesn’t get an answer, he whimpers. 

“Come here Jisung, I’m texting you an address. You need to drive me home.”

Jaemin doesn’t wait for a response, afraid of what he’d receive. So he hangs up and uses his trembling thumbs to send Jisung a text message with the address of where he’s parked. 

Just like he expected, Jisung knocks on his car window ten minutes later, looking confused and taken aback by his state. Instead of lowering the window, Jaemin simply steps out and walks to the passenger’s side, and sits back down. Jisung climbs in after getting over his initial confusion, closing the door behind him. 

“... You remember, don’t you?” Jisung asks after a minute or so of Jaemin sniffling. 

Jaemin humorlessly laughs.

“You hid it from me too? Guess you don’t love hyung, huh?”

Jisung sighs, hands on the steering wheel as he looks up, trying to organize his thoughts. 

He settles on the fact that he’s unable to. 

“Buckle up.” Is all he says, turning the key in the ignition and putting on his own seatbelt. “You can ask questions, but I doubt you want to.” 

Jisung sounds so neutral about the whole thing, that Jaemin stays quiet for a few minutes, afraid that he’d immediately bias with Jeno.

It’s not that they weren’t friends, they all were at some point. But Jaemin has his original friends and so does Jeno, and it was their relationship that had merged the two together. 

When they were all friends, he and Jisung got along, but he also liked to think he got along with everyone. He’s scared Jisung might tell him something he doesn’t need to hear right now, but he guesses it’d be his fault for even calling the younger. 

“How did Jeno get all his things to the house?” Jaemin settles on asking, deciding for a safe question, just to see where Jisung stands. 

Jisung thinks he sounds clogged and stuffy, but he doesn’t comment on it. He also notices that Jaemin’s face is red and his eyes and nose are swollen, but he also decides to stay shut about that. 

Instead, he keeps his eyes on the road and both hands on the steering wheel as he drives them to Jaemin’s house. 

“Chenle,” he answers, mentioning another friend which makes Jaemin’s heart sink again. That means Chenle knew about this too and kept it a secret from him. “He dropped off Jeno hyung’s things after the first day,” he finishes, gulping at the eerie silence. If Jaemin said something, it’d be appreciated, since Jisung is kind of scared for his stability. He also wants to ask where Jeno is, but doesn’t think that’s the smartest thing to do. 

“And Renjun?”

Jisung gulps again.

“He knows.”

Jaemin didn’t think it was possible, but his heart breaks all over again. 

The people he thought he could hold closest to his heart were all the ones who’ve been lying to him. Keeping this secret from him, who have allowed Jeno to integrate himself into his life like he still has a place. 

And it hurts.

Because they all know what happened. 

But they all just watched it happen again. 

The rest of the car ride to Jaemin’s house is kind of awkward, with Jisung only focusing on driving and trying to ignore Jaemin’s quiet weeps. Jisung doesn’t think the other boy has stopped crying since the phone call, and he just knows the pounding headache Jaemin will inevitably get will be a pain in the ass. 

“We’re here,” Jisung mumbles, turning the key out of the ignition and handing it to Jaemin. He takes off his seatbelt and gets out of the car without Jaemin telling him too either. 

Once they’re both outside Jaemin grabs Jisung’s arm and drags him to the trunk of the car, where Jaemin and Jeno’s bikes still are. 

“Take his bike to get back home,” Jaemin sniffs, passing it over to Jisung. “Thanks for the ride.” 

“Jaemin,” Jisung sighs, catching the older boy’s wrist. He searches his brain for the right words to say, not wanting to upset him more than he already is. 

Jeno never shared much details about what was going on when he started living with Jaemin again, all they know is that he seemed happier. That alone was enough to have them not worry, but maybe they should’ve been more cautious. Clearly, this isn’t the best ending for either of them. 

“... Hear him out,” Jisung ends up saying, only for Jaemin to not even spare him a second glance before ripping his wrist away and walking to the front door. 

He’s taken aback by Jaemin’s hostility, but he should’ve seen it coming. No way Jaemin would want to talk about this now, or even hear about it, and Jisung kicks himself for making such a simple mistake. 

Back inside the house, Jaemin feels only a little bit guilty for leaving Jisung alone out there without even saying goodbye, but all that guilt is replaced with the dawn of reality when he sees Jeno’s shoes in the front foyer. 

So this wasn’t just a terrible nightmare, huh? Jeno really had made himself at home. 

Jaemin’s sick of crying, but he can’t help it when the deeper he gets into the apartment, the more reminders of Jeno there are. It’s like the exact scenario replaying itself from when they first broke up, except this time there’s new memories added. 

It’s only been three months, but there’s so many more promises captured in photos, so many more promises hidden in trinkets, and so many more promises displayed in flowers. 

Jaemin guesses it doesn’t matter if they’re new promises. 

All promises Jeno makes end up broken anyway. 

When Jaemin looks at their photo wall, the same one he built so happily before pulling down so tearfully, only to hang up again so happily, he sees three new frames. 

It’s only been three months, Jaemin wonders why they’ve added so many. 

It’s easy to spot the newer ones, the ones that are placed near the edges compared to the others. 

A black and white photo of their three cats, all their tiny heads tilted to the side and looking at the camera with their bright eyes. Jaemin loves their cats, he really does, all three of them are beautiful and cute and always good and fun company, but looking at them now, all he can see is Jeno holding them in his arms, Jeno playing with them, Jeno taking a nap with them. 

Everything reminds him of Jeno. 

It doesn’t help that the next photo is a picture of their pinkies intertwined, promise rings on display on those fingers. It’s against the plants in the garden, a lush green background compared to their fair skin tones. 

His pinky feels oddly empty now that he registers that the ring isn’t there anymore. 

And lastly, the newest addition to the wall is the picture Jeno took of him when they were having their picnic at the park. Jaemin had to render it to black and white because the photo settings were messy, but after some edits and a print, it’s unmissable; the look of love in his eyes. 

He looks  _ so happy _ , and there’s no denying it. 

He’s looking down at Jeno in the photo, with the sunshine behind him and he thought he had the world in front of him. 

His world  _ was _ in front of him. 

And that’s enough to make his knees weak and send him to the ground, where he rips his throat apart from the sheer intensity of his sobs. 

He did it, didn’t he? For the second time, Jeno managed to make him happy. 

Jaemin doesn’t know why it hurts so much, shouldn’t it be easier the second time around? Shouldn’t it be less painful since he’s already been through it once before? If so, why does he feel his heart physically breaking in his chest? Why does it feel like his soul has been ripped out of his body and crushed? 

Why is it so cold in here now?

On the floor, hands on his chest, cradling his heart as if it’ll save him from more pain, is how Donghyuck and Mark find him. 

“Jaemin,” Mark calls in a distressed manner, alarmed by the devastated state of his brother. 

He walks closer to crouch down next to the younger, arms reaching out to hug him, when Jaemin’s shrill scream cuts through everything, making both him and Donghyuck freeze. 

“Don’t touch me!” Jaemin yells angrily, forcing himself to sit up and move further away from Mark. “Go away, you fucking liars!” 

“Jaemin please,” Mark pleads, hands twitching at his sides with the need to do  _ something _ . He feels like it’s his own heart breaking, seeing Jaemin in this state, unable to do anything to help him. “We’re here for you,  _ I’m here for you _ ,” he insists. 

“I don’t need you,” Jaemin cries, backing away more until his back is pressed against the wall, knees up to his chest, in a ball to protect himself. “I don’t want you! You let a monster back into my life! You’re my brother and you— You brought him back. You said we were family, so why did you do that?”

“I didn’t have a choice, you wanted him—”

“I don’t want him! I never want him! You could’ve said no. You could’ve stopped him from moving in, from sleeping with me, from giving me a ring! But what did you do, hyung?” 

Mark gulps, guilty of everything Jaemin had listed off. 

“Nana—”

“No, no, no!” Jaemin yells, teary, red and puffy eyes glaring Mark. “No Nana, get out! Leave and don’t come back, you asshole!” 

“Jae—”

_ “Get out!”  _

Defeatedly, Mark backs away. With a heavy heart, he stands up and on shaky legs, and brushes past Donghyuck, who’s silent with his lips pressed in a line. 

“I’m not coming home tonight,” Donghyuck whispers, earning a stiff nod from Mark before the latter is leaving through the front door. 

Donghyuck waits a minute before kneeling down in front of the younger. 

“Jaemin,” he calls, holding the other boy’s wrists and pulling them away from his face. “Please stop crying. Breathe a little.”

“You lied to me,” he heaves, albeit weakly now, losing the fight he had in him when he was talking to Mark. “You’re just like them, you’re just like him!”

“Jaemin don’t think about anything right now,” Donghyuck shushes, bringing the younger’s weak body to his, holding him close. “It’ll be okay. I promise.” 

Jaemin shakes his head, wetting Donghyuck’s shirt with his snot and tears. He doesn’t even care that much anymore, not when Donghyuck is finally a source of warmth. 

But it’s nothing compared to Jeno’s warmth. 

Nothing equates to Jeno’s warmth. 

“Promises are meant to be broken.”

Donghyuck closes his eyes, willing himself to calm down and remembering that he needed to be strong for Jaemin right now. 

Jeno had done a number on Jaemin,  _ again _ , as it seems, and Donghyuck has no problem helping him just like he did months ago. 

“Jaemin, I’m here for you,” he reminds, holding Jaemin tighter and rocking them back and forth gently. This is his best friend that’s breaking down in his arms, and nothing hurts more than knowing your soulmate is aching. 

Jaemin doesn’t say anything, not immediately, but when he does, Donghyuck thinks silence would’ve hurt less than what he hears. 

“I love him.”

  
  
  


As Jeno watches Jaemin storm off, he manages to dial the number he dialled all those months back when he started this mess, intending to also put an end to it all with the same number. 

The sun is setting, casting a golden hue over Jeno’s tears, melting out the reds in the whites of his eyes. 

It makes the whole thing look prettier than it is. 

“Jeno?”

It’s uncanny, how this conversation reads similar to the one that took place months ago. 

This time though, the feeling of irritation is replaced with a feeling of defeat. 

“It’s over. He remembers.”

  
  
  


»«

  
  
  


_ A dinner as fancy as the ones his boss took his department to once a month, a candle lit up between their faces with identical plates of steaks and vegetables, sauce artistically spooned onto the edge of the plate in a deep colour.  _

_ Jeno didn't cook it. He isn't capable of making something to this caliber, he said so himself when they both sat down at the table.  _

_ But Jaemin didn't hold it over his head, he was grateful for the sentiment either way. Even if dinner had been picked up from their favourite steakhouse.  _

_ It was such a nice conversation, low voices and the orange glow from the flame. Even in the confinements of their dining table, it feels like five stars.  _

_ Anywhere with Jeno feels like five stars.  _

_ Dessert is Jeno's own creation, despite them being simple strawberries covered in chocolate and not much else. A bowl of whipped cream on the side and a bunch of sticky fingers were what followed, masked behind endless giggles and a multitude of sticky kisses to the cheeks, forehead and lips.  _

_ Their clumsiness had even led to them spilling whipped cream onto the couch which they just bought, but not even the potential stain could've ruined what they've created between them. _

_ And when Jaemin says he'll go clean up the dishes since Jeno had put this all together by himself while Jaemin was still at work, Jeno doesn't let him. When he argues and says that it's only fair, Jeno makes him sit on the couch.  _

_ With a promise of a surprise, Jeno manages to get Jaemin to close his eyes. To sit with his back straight and preening his ears to try and hear what Jeno is doing despite not being able to see him. He doesn't catch onto much, so he stays still and waits until he can hear Jeno's footsteps again. _

_ Jaemin doesn't hear Jeno's clothes rustle or anything like that when the footsteps stop, but he doesn't get enough time to think about that before Jeno says, _

_ "Open your eyes, Jaemin." _

_ And the sight that greets him, Jaemin will keep engraved into his brain for the rest of his life, so that every night as he falls asleep, this scene will paint itself in his mind. So that every morning when he wakes up, the first thing he will think of is this scene.  _

_ Because Jeno is on one knee in front of him, and he doesn't ever want to forget the picture of Jeno kneeling before him with a open ring box in his hand, a silver band with three diamonds encrusted onto it staring back at him, along with Jeno's bright but still nervous smile.  _

_ "Jeno..." _

_ It could only mean so many things, but Jaemin still feels emotions bubble up inside of his chest despite Jeno not saying anything yet. He still feels his hands shake slightly because he's so overwhelmed, despite Jeno not opening his mouth yet.  _

_ He still feels the three letter word sitting on the tip of his tongue despite Jeno not asking him yet.  _

_ "I had a very long speech prepared," Jeno starts, looking at Jaemin like he hung the stars in the sky. Like he hung the stars in  _ his _ sky. "But if I'm being honest, I forgot the whole thing because I'm very nervous right now, and because you look so extremely, unearthly, unimaginably beautiful, Na Jaemin." _

_ It's not fair, how Jeno is rendering him weak with his simple gaze and magical words. But his heart is throbbing against his rib cage, and he wonders if it will leave bruising.  _

_ Jaemin already knows his answer, but he bites his tongue to let Jeno have this moment. This will be something he hopes neither of them will ever forget, and doesn't want to ruin anything. Even if Jeno already did forget his speech.  _

_ "You've been my friend for a very long time," Jeno continues, soft smile coming onto his lips as he recounts their story. In turn, Jaemin also smiles softly at the memories. "You've been next to me for so many years. I don't want to imagine a life where you're not next to me. It hurts, to think of a future where you're not with me. At this point, I've come to realize that I'm not complete without you, Jaemin. We're two halves of a whole, shouldn't that mean we stay together forever?" _

_ Jaemin laughs a little at that out of happiness, forever with Jeno sounding absolutely heavenly.  _

_ "We only just moved in here," Jeno says, voice a little quieter than before. He sounds more vulnerable now, and the whole atmosphere suddenly becomes more intimate than it already was. Jaemin wonders if Jeno's knee aches from where he's been kneeling for the past five minutes, but he doesn't get to pay more mind to it, because Jeno continues to speak. "It's only been four days since I've been able to wake up next to you in the morning. Despite that, I only needed one day to know that there's nothing more I want in the world, than to wake up next to you every morning." _

_ Jaemin feels his eyes sting, Jeno putting into words the exact way he's been feeling since they've stepped foot into the property they bought together. He doesn't want to cry right now, but Jeno should’ve expected it, if he was going to sound like his absolute dream in front of him.  _

_ "Being with you is indescribable. I used to think that being yours wasn't a possibility, that I've gotten way in over my head. But if our time together has taught me anything, it's that it didn't matter what I used to think. Because we're supposed to be together, Jaemin-ah. We're supposed to be each other's and we're supposed to learn from each other and grow with each other, every single day," _

_ Jaemin can feel his tears slip down his cheeks, can see how his vision blurs. Jeno is still looking at him with that soft smile on his face, but this time he looks at him with an added layer of adoration.  _

_ Jeno adores him. _

_ Jaemin adores him just as much.  _

_ Maybe even more.  _

_ "I love you, Na Jaemin. I love you more than the grass loves the rain. I love you more than the sun loves the moon. I love you more than the bees love pollen. I love you, so will you do me the honour of being at my side while I'm at yours, of learning from me while I learn from you, of growing old with me while I grow old with you," _

_ Jaemin has to bite his lip to stop a sob from escaping.  _

_ "... Of making me the happiest man in the universe, and marry me?" _

_ Then, Jaemin can't hold it in anymore. He cries, because he didn't know what else to do to express his happiness. He cries, because he doesn't know what to do with the onslaught of heavy emotions pouring out of his heart. He cries, because even in the happiest moment of his life, he lets his feelings get the better of him. _

_ "Yes," he says between sniffles, nodding his head vigorously. He sees Jeno's smile brighten, lighting up the room, and it only makes his own smile widen. "Yes, I'll marry you Lee Jeno." _

Jaemin wakes up with a start, gasping as his eyes shoot open. 

The scene of Jeno on one knee in front of him with an open ring box is what greets him first, followed by the blank white ceiling. 

Even after all this time, he doesn't think he'll ever be able to erase the picture from his mind. 

He doesn't even realize he's crying until someone is wiping his tears away with the pads of their thumbs, shushing him. Even then, it takes an arm around his shoulders to acknowledge that he's sobbing heavily, feeling them heave up and down every second. 

"I said yes," he babbles, to the blank white ceiling, to the three framed photographs on the wall opposite of him, to anyone who would listen. "I wanted to marry him, I  _ want _ to marry him."

He sounds pathetic to his own ears, but he can't keep the truth from spilling past his lips. Maybe it's the three photos staring at him mockingly, yet another empty promise. Intertwined together like the stems of the flowers, because that's how they were supposed to be. They weren't supposed to twist away from each other, they weren't supposed to unravel the bonds. 

But life isn't as still as the photos in front of him. 

Unfortunately, life moved forward every second. 

"Shh, Jaemin, it's okay," Donghyuck's voice floods his ears, but somehow, despite being right next to his ear, it's not enough to drown out the voice of Jeno on one knee in front of him. 

_ "I love you more than the grass loves the rain. I love you more than the sun loves the moon. I love you more than bees love pollen. I love you," _

"Not enough," he cries, face in his hands palms. His face is no doubt swollen, red and ugly all around. Jaemin wonders if Jeno would be rendered speechless if he were to see him in this state. 

"Jaemin, breathe for me, it's okay, everything will be okay," Donghyuck shushes, cradling Jaemin's head to his chest. He runs his palms up and down Jaemin's head and back, but it's not enough.

It's not enough, because the hands aren't cold enough. 

It's not enough, because he can't feel the ridge of a ring. 

It's not enough, because it's not Lee Jeno. 

"I want him," he hiccups. "Bring him back, I want my Jeno back!"

"Jaemin, you don't want him back," Donghyuck says firmly, trying not to be too harsh with Jaemin is his vulnerable state. He doesn't want to sound this mean, but Jaemin isn't thinking clearly right now. One second he's cursing Jeno's name with every curse word there is, and the next he cries over him not being next to him. 

There's no way that Donghyuck knows all the ins and outs of their relationship, but he knows enough to know that Jaemin needs to think properly before he does something irrational. 

"How would you know? You don't know me, you lie to me! I want my fiancé, I want my Jeno with me."

Despite the distaste towards Donghyuck in Jaemin's words, the former can't find it in himself to do anything but hold onto his best friend tighter. Although he knows Jaemin is extremely upset and angered by everyone lying to him, he knows that he doesn't mean whatever else he says. 

Jaemin needs to clear his mind, but before he does that, he needs to stop crying. 

"Listen to me. You need to think straight. Aren't you mad at me for bringing Jeno to you?" Donghyuck knows better than to bring up Mark's name too, so he doesn't. "You don't want Jeno, you just want to ignore all the bad. This is life Jaemin, some of it is bad and some if it is good. This is the bad, and you can't just get rid of it."

Jaemin's cries have quieted down, now just weak sniffles and his fists curled into the back of Donghyuck's shirt. 

"I want to marry him," Jaemin whispers after some time. He sounds so hurt that it hurts Donghyuck in turn, but there's not much he can do to undo the way Jaemin is thinking up in his brain. "Is that bad?"

"No," Donghyuck immediately says, assuring him with a gentle hand through his hair. His extremely greasy hair, Donghyuck notes, making a mental note to force Jaemin to shower today. "He's your other half, wanting him isn't bad. What's bad is if you forgive him."

Jaemin burrows himself closer to Donghyuck, as if scared of the other's words. Donghyuck knows he isn't being the teddy bear Jaemin probably wants right now, but he's the rationale that Jaemin needs instead. 

"He hurt you and you hurt him, that's why you guys broke up. No matter what happened in the past three months, it didn't solve your problems, you guys lived in a perfect world where it was like your problems didn't exist. That kind of world doesn't exist, Nana. If you want to marry Lee Jeno, you need to talk about your relationship."

Donghyuck doesn't know how much of what he said Jaemin has registered, but he's massively less distressed as he hugs him. 

"I want to marry him,"

He sounds like a broken record, but Donghyuck doesn't comment on it. 

After everything, Jaemin has a reason to feel broken. 

  
  
  
  


Jaemin is cutting up an apple when he slices his finger. 

It stings, but it's not extreme, so he doesn't call out for Donghyuck. Instead, he runs his finger under cold water and searches for a bandage with his other hand. He finds one quickly, covering his wound with it and making his way back to continue to carefully finish cutting the apple. 

_ "Isn't it funny?"  _

_ "What's funny?" _

_ "How this is so versatile," Jeno answers, holding his apple up to the ceiling, examining it against the shitty lighting of his dorm room.  _

_ "It's a fruit?" Jaemin mumbles confusedly, not understanding what Jeno was trying to say. It might've been a year since they've gotten together, and even longer since their friendship has blossomed, but Jaemin doesn't think he's ever going to get over Jeno's weirdness.  _

_ It's okay though, he likes that about the other boy.  _

_ "Yeah, but think about it," Jeno starts, sitting up and looking awfully serious to only be talking about a fruit. Nonetheless, Jaemin puts his undivided attention onto Jeno, listening. "You can eat them like this. Cut them up. Cube them, slices, dices, julienne! You can cook them, dip them, put peanut butter on them! Honestly, Jaeminnie, tell me what you can't do with apples?" _

_ "Are you high?" Jaemin asks with a frown, disregarding Jeno's question. He's squinting into the other's eyes, trying to find any dilation or redness.  _

_ Jeno jerks back, offended. _

_ "What? No! I'm just telling you about how much fun you can have with a singular apple! Juice them, and you have apple juice. You can make applesauce, and don't even get me started on apple pie," Jeno rambles. _

_ Jaemin doesn't understand this conversation, but he thinks Jeno is cute when he talks so passionately, even if it is about something as stupid as apples.  _

_ "I know how to make apple pie," is all he answers, not really knowing what to say after finding out his boyfriend is an apple connoisseur. Was that a valid thing to post on Reddit and ask for advice on?  _

_ "Oh Nana, you  _ have _ to make me pie!" Jeno gasps with sparkly eyes. He leans in closer to Jaemin, looking at him almost pleadingly. "I'll literally marry you if you make me apple pie!" _

_ At how excited Jeno looks, Jaemin thinks he'd just be a cruel person for denying him such a simple happiness.  _

_ "I promise." _

"I never made you pie," Jaemin mutters to himself, looking back down at where the fruit lays still on the cutting board. "Maybe I also don't keep my promises."

He drops the knife, suddenly not in the mood to look at the apples anymore, much less eat them. He thinks Donghyuck will be disappointed with him for not eating like he said he would, but he can't bring himself to care. He plops himself down on the couch, strategically facing away from the fireplace mantle which holds too many memories to count. 

_ "Jaemin?" _

_ Stirring awake at the sudden sound, Jaemin groggily tries to open his eyes, only to be met with darkness. The curtains are still drawn open, and where there used to be sunlight filtering through the windows, now it's pitch black.  _

_ He remembers getting comfortable on the couch with a book, but he doesn't remember falling asleep. He guesses he did though at one point, seeing as now he's watching Jeno pull the curtains back as he rubs sleep from his eyes from his spot on the couch.  _

_ "Hey. What time is it?" He greets belatedly, patting the spot next to him when Jeno is done with the curtains. The older boy checks his phone as he makes his way over. _

_ "Quarter past eight," he answers, tossing his phone onto the coffee table in front of them. He takes the seat next to Jaemin, pressing a kiss to his temple. "Sorry I'm late today, ran a little overtime trying to reach a deadline," he explains, loosening the tie around his neck.  _

_ Jaemin wills himself to not think about other things watching Jeno loosen his tie, his fiancé just got home for goodness sake!  _

_ "'S'okay," Jaemin mumbles, remnants of sleep still pulling at him gently. "Dinner is in the fridge for you." _

_ Jeno hums, but doesn't make a move to get up or to make his way to the fridge. Instead, he leans in closer when Jaemin is rubbing his eyes again, catching the younger off guard with a kiss to his lips.  _

_ Jaemin kisses him back, but only once before he pulls away.  _

_ "What was that for?" _

_ "Do I need a reason to kiss you?" Jeno asks offhandedly, to which he only gets an eyebrow raise in return. He sighs. "Would you believe me if I just said you looked ethereal under the moonlight?" _

_ Normally, Jaemin would snicker at that, but Jeno doesn't look like he's joking. He looks dead serious, the shadows of his face defined by the electric fireplace glowing as the only source of light.  _

_ Jaemin thinks he looks devastatingly handsome like this, all sharp features, deep voice and crisp suit.  _

_ "I wouldn't," Jaemin whispers, suddenly aware of the delicate atmosphere between them. "But you look like an angel right now, so maybe I can see where you're coming from." _

_ Even if Jaemin doesn't believe he looks as ethereal as Jeno claims, in his loose sweatshirt and pajama pants, he lets Jeno whisper otherwise as he leans in for another kiss, one of his hands cupping Jaemin's cheek. The other is on his shoulder, pushing Jaemin back until he was laying down, head propped up only by a throw pillow.  _

_ "I think you're the angel," the older boy mutters against his lips, kissing the corner as he continues to talk. "Fallen from the sky because there's no beauty on this Earth that compares to you." _

_ "You're lying," Jaemin breath stutters when Jeno's lips move down to his jaw, sucking lightly as he crawls more on top of him. "Not possible when you're right here." _

_ Jeno laughs into his neck, lips moving wetly against the skin. His breath tickles Jaemin's throat, but the sound of his laugh is so melodious that he doesn't even care.  _

_ "Are we just gonna go back and forth?" He asks, bringing his head back up so that they could look at each other. The smile eases off of his face and melts into something softer, one of his hands tracing Jaemin's cheekbones. "Because I could go on forever about how pretty you are." _

_ And then he kisses him again, soft but promising, airy but conveying. Jaemin doesn't doubt what Jeno says, but he doesn't let it go that easily either.  _

_ As one of his hands travels across the slope of Jeno's shoulder and under the coat of his suit, Jaemin pulls him closer.  _

_ "I believe I could ramble about how beautiful you are too," he says, his other hand following the same route as the other, slowly sliding Jeno's coat off of his shoulders. Once it's off, Jeno tosses it onto the floor carelessly, not minding the potential wrinkles.  _

_ When he turns fully back to Jaemin, the latter indulges in his thoughts from before and pulls Jeno down by the tie, until their lips merely brush against each other. It's at the same time Jeno brings a hand to his waist under his sweatshirt, Jaemin naturally arching into the other's hold.  _

_ "My Jeno," he breathes out, staring deep into the brown eyes which have an amber hue to them from the light of the fireplace. His hand has let go of the tie, cupping his cheek instead. "I love you." _

_ When Jeno kisses him again, it's hotter than before. When he kisses him this time, it's heavier, so Jaemin kisses back the same way.  _

_ "I love you, sweetheart," the older boy mumbles, knee between the younger's legs and hair falling into his eyes. "Lemme show you." _

_ Jaemin gasps again when Jeno starts nipping past his throat, pulling the neckline of his sweatshirt down further.  _

_ "On the couch?" He asks breathlessly, both hands tangling in Jeno's hair. "We're not in school anymore, we have such a big bed." _

_ "Too far," Jeno simply says, biting down particularly harshly when Jaemin tugs equally as harsh. "I wanna love you right here, right now." _

_ "Your dinner," Jaemin protests weakly, but despite his words, his hands are already unbuttoning the buttons down Jeno's dress shirt.  _

_ "Dinner can wait," Jeno says, sitting up a bit higher as he lets Jaemin push his shirt off of his shoulders. He smirks. "You look awfully delicious under me anyway." _

Jaemin guesses the couch holds an equal amount of memories as the fireplace mantle. 

  
  
  


»«

  
  
  


Walking into his apartment after months of not even driving by it feels like walking into a foreign country. 

It even took him a few minutes to find the key, nestled somewhere in his wallet. He didn’t leave it on the key chain he takes everywhere, he didn’t need Jaemin to ask what the key was for. 

Stepping into his apartment, it smells wrong. 

It doesn’t smell like what he’s been so used to coming home to, the comforting candles Jaemin lights up at night, the scent of the plants he manages to keep alive. 

It’s with that thought, that he spots his own plants, dried up and very much dead on his balcony. He should’ve known he couldn’t have kept them alive, plants were always Jaemin’s job anyway. Perhaps he should’ve asked Chenle to come and water them occasionally, but the plants weren’t really on his top list of priorities. 

With heavy footsteps, Jeno walks into his apartment, slowly, almost as if he didn’t know how to anymore. 

And he doesn’t. 

Because what he knows is coming home to another pair of shoes in the foyer, coming home to another pair of keys in the key tray, coming home to someone else’s voice. 

He knows coming home to climb up the stairs, coming home to someone else’s clothes around the bedroom with his own, coming home to another person. 

It doesn’t feel right, coming home to nothing. Literally nothing; no extra pair of shoes, no extra pair of keys, no extra voice. No extra stairs, no extra clothes, no extra person. 

And Jeno didn’t know how much he’d miss it until he’s forced to go back to living the way he didn’t know was miserable. It’s like giving a child their first taste of sugar, only to fill them with vegetables right after. It’s not the same, and nothing feels the same after that. It’s an incredible feeling Jeno wishes he could come home to again, but he knows he won’t be able to. 

It hurts more than anything, coming home and knowing Jaemin isn’t there waiting for him. Coming home and knowing that he is’t waiting for Jaemin. 

_ Jaemin, Jaemin, Jaemin.  _

Jaemin has once been an important person in his life, for the better part of four years, more if you include their friendship. Jeno only left his person in the past for six months, but those six months were enough to realize how lucky he was to call Jaemin his. 

For six months, he tried to forget that there was even such a person as Jaemin in his life, but he should’ve known it’d be futile. 

You don’t forget your soulmate in six months. 

You don’t erase the way they made your life worth living. You don’t erase the way they made you want to wake up in the mornings. You don’t erase the way your world revolved around them. 

But Jeno tried. He foolishly tried, thinking that a life without Jaemin would be a life he could live with. 

But a life without Jaemin isn’t life at all. 

Swallowing the lump in his throat, Jeno sits down on his couch. 

He had come home from another mundane day of work, no motivation, no ethics, no want to get up the next day to repeat the cycle. 

There’s so many things Jeno doesn’t want, but the things he doesn’t want more than others is to continue to live like this. He doesn’t want to wake up alone anymore, he doesn’t want to eat alone anymore, he doesn’t want to look at his walls and not see memories. 

There’s no memories in his apartment, there’s no stories to be told, no flowers in the backyard. 

“I miss you,”

He didn’t think of missing Jaemin even once in the six they were apart, but it’s been a mere six days now, and all he can think about is the warmth of the other next to him. Skin pressed to skn, breath in each other’s mouths and fingers tangled in hair. 

Jeno has never wanted to comb through Jaemin’s strands as much as he does now. 

His words echo through the emptiness of his apartment, almost as if the walls were mocking him. There’s no bubbly voice who answers him, there’s no giggle, and there’s no sweet drawl of  _ ‘Honey’ _ calling for him. 

There’s no Jaemin, and that's the problem. 

But Jeno doesn’t have a solution. How is he going to marry the love of his life when he wants nothing to do with Jeno? How is he going to love Jaemin for the rest of his life when the latter would prefer if Jeno stayed away? 

How is he supposed to move on, when his heart rests with one person, and only one person? 

Loving someone who wasn’t Jaemin never made any sense to him, but it distresses him when he realizes that he might have to let the other go, for good this time. 

Jeno regrets everyday in his life after he walked away from Jaemin, regrets not putting more effort in, regrets letting Jaemin get away without putting any effort in. He wants to be mad at himself, wants to blame all of Jaemin’s pain on himself, but he knows that they’re both equally as responsible. 

It was because of the two of them that they were able to last so long, and it’s also because of the two of them that they sank. 

Jeno hopes that the two of them can also be the ones to rebuild themselves. 

  
  
  


A more than pointless day of work later, Jeno finds himself sifting through his closet. He left the majority of his clothes at Jaemin’s house, and while he’s sure that his things aren’t a pleasant reminder for Jaemin, he can’t just go and collect them all. He’s lucky that Chenle hadn’t packed his whole wardrobe when he had initially brought Jeno his clothes the first night, but he doesn’t have a lot to work with either. 

He doesn’t know which one is better, to be living with no semblance of Jaemin in his apartment, or to be constantly surrounded by things of his, without him actually there. Jeno guesses he’d like to be surrounded by things that reminded him of Jaemin, if only to not feel so lonely. There’s not a thing that has a semblance of Jaemin in his apartment, when he foolishly decided that he didn’t need any reminders of the other boy when he first moved in. 

Now, more than anything, he wishes he snagged a photo or two when he had moved out of their house the first time. 

It’s with that thought that he remembers that he has something. Something small, something that could almost not be mistaken for things that remind him of Jaemin, but he  _ knows _ because he kept this thing hidden away in the depths of his closet for a reason. He didn’t want to see them initially, but now he wants nothing more than to open the box. 

So he does just that, fishing through the piles of clothes on his closet floor, until his shaky fingers meet a box. 

It’s rather big, and it’s with a thumping heart that he pulls it out. The mere sight of the box is somewhat overwhelming, and Jeno doesn’t have the energy to hold it up and bring it with him somewhere more comfortable, so he settles on sitting down on the floor. 

With trembling hands, Jeno lifts the lid off of the box, sucking in a breath when his eyes meet the items inside. 

They’re all scattered, no real order to them all. But as his eyes wash over everything, he knows what every single item is without a doubt in his mind. Even after all this time, things which remind him of Jaemin are engraved into his mind. 

_ Forever,  _ Jeno thinks, pulling out a stack of printed papers held together by a binder clip.  _ Jaemin will be in my mind forever _ . 

The words typed onto the printed pages are meticulous, too tiny and too much fine print to make Jeno want to read it again. But he knows it’s a copy of the papers he and Jaemin have signed when they bought their house. 

Jaemin has the original document, and Jeno doesn’t know why he brought his copy with him when he moved out. Maybe it was because he wanted them just in case something happened. It’s a weird thought, because he didn’t think he’d ever be speaking to Jaemin again when he brought these with him. 

They’re just papers, but it’s his first thing with Jaemin that they’ve owned together. 

The next thing Jeno sees is his graduation cap. It’s nothing special, just plain and boring. But he kept it because on the top right corner, he had written Jaemin’s initials in a silver sharpie. 

_ N.JM  _

The sharpie hasn’t faded, and it gives Jeno a weird sense of comfort. He had written Jaemin’s initials there as a last minute decision, and he didn’t even tell Jaemin about it. He doesn’t know if Jaemin knows to this day, but when he looks at the initials, he remembers why he wrote it. 

_ For you,  _ he remembers thinking,  _ I want to do it all for you in the future.  _

It’s cheesy and pathetic when he thinks about it now, but back then, it made him smile. Because Jeno had a job waiting for him right out of graduation, and he had a boyfriend who he was planning to propose to, and everything that had been coursing through his mind was for Jaemin. 

The light of his life, some might say. His motivation. 

The next item he pulls out, are two singular pieces of paper. 

He feels his throat close up when he looks at them, the reality of what his future would’ve been settling in him. 

Tickets to the Maldives for their honeymoon. 

They don’t have a date on them, applicable whenever. They were insanely expensive for that reason, and because it was to the Maldives, but Jeno remembers not caring when he punched in his credit card information. 

For Jaemin, anything was worth it. The thousands of dollars he spent on these tickets, the time he spent planning their honeymoon in his head. 

_ “I don’t care where we go,” Jaemin says, head laying on Jeno’s chest as he traces shapes above his heart. “I just want to celebrate being married to the love of my life.” _

Jaemin had to have meant it, right? He was the love of his life. He couldn’t just take it back, they’ve been through too much for Jaemin to take it back. He has to mean it, because Jeno doesn’t think he can even begin to fathom  _ not  _ calling Jaemin the love of his life. 

Jeno thinks the tickets have been the most painful thing to pull out, but then his eyes meet a folded piece of sketchbook paper, and his eyes well up. 

His fingers are still shaking as he grabs the paper, knowing what’s inside. It isn’t too old, maybe a year and a half at most. 

Jeno unfolds the paper, revealing a detailed sketch of a five tier, white wedding cake. 

And he’s crying. 

Because each tier has arrows pointing to different parts, labelling what were to go there. Each tier has a different flavour, each tier has white fondant covering it. Jeno reads as the top tier is labelled to have many flowers littered on the top, and that the middle tier is the one they’re supposed to cut into. Vanilla on the inside because that’s what Jaemin wants, white icing on the inside because that’s what Jeno wants. 

Looking back on this sketch, it’s so obvious to him that all he’s ever wanted is to give Jaemin what he wanted. He thinks that that’s the only thing that made him happy, knowing that Jaemin was happy. 

_ “White would look nice,” Jaemin says, scrolling through his phone as they’re both sitting on the living room couch. “And super pretty, don’t you think honey?” _

_ Jeno doesn’t understand the aesthetics of it, a cake is a cake, but for Jaemin, he nods his head.  _

_ “Oh, and flowers on the top,” the younger continues, gushing as he pulls up a picture of pink dahlias. “Wouldn’t these be absolutely lovely?” _

_ Jeno doesn’t think flowers make sense on a cake, but the flower Jaemin shows him is beautiful, and so is the smile on his face.  _

_ If pink flowers on a white cake is what will make Jaemin smile like that on their wedding day, then Jeno has no intentions of preventing that from happening. _

_ “Totally lovely, Jaemin-ah.” _

“So lovely,” Jeno weeps, managing to get a tear on the paper. It doesn’t smudge the ink of the pen he used, thankfully, because he doesn’t want anything to ever damage this sketch. 

It may seem plain to anyone else, but to him it looks like everything he was willing to do to make Jaemin smile. 

And it’s just a cake, but it’s more than a cake. Because it’s a wedding cake that Jaemin put a lot of thought into, and it’s a cake that Jeno put his time into sketching. 

He hopes that one day, he and Jaemin can cut into a five tier white wedding cake with pink dahlias on top. 

Jeno knows what the last thing in the box is before he even reaches for it, and his heart feels like someone stomps on it when his fingers make contact with the small velvet box. 

“You said you’d wait,” Jeno’s cries into the emptiness of his bedroom. His voice echoes and bounces off of the walls, reverberating right back into his ears. He sounds desperate to himself, pathetic and heartbroken. “You said we could get married when we had money.”

They both work good jobs, they did even when they were together. But money had been a pinch when planning a wedding, keeping in mind that there wasn’t too much left for luxuries after they had to pay their bills and stock the fridge and fill the tanks in their cars. 

They didn’t know an exact date for their wedding, but it didn’t matter much to them. Because saving up the funds for a beautiful ceremony, the ceremony of their dreams, had sounded more appealing than rushing it. 

But Jeno couldn’t help himself when he was passing by a boutique one day, compelled to enter into the shop. He did, and immediately fell in love with the jewelry they had displayed. 

It only took him two visits to purchase wedding rings, shiny, silver and sparkly. He didn’t think Jaemin deserved anything less than gorgeous, and he’d been so proud of the rings he chose. He remembers going home that day and hiding the rings somewhere Jaemin wouldn’t find them, ecstatic to pull them out for their wedding. 

The day never came, so he had kept them with him. He didn’t know what the point of that was, perhaps because he didn’t want Jaemin to find them even if they weren’t together. 

But now, as he opens the box and sees two stunning rings staring back at him, he wants nothing more than to slip it onto Jaemin’s finger. He wants to see Jaemin wearing this jewelry, he wants to see the silver glistening in the sunlight. 

He wants to marry Jaemin. 

He wants to marry Jaemin so bad. 

He wants a forever with Jaemin, he wants a wedding with Jaemin, he wants a life in the future with Jaemin, he wants—

He wants it all. 

He wants everything with Jaemin. 

But he doesn’t think he’s in a position to start making all his wants come true. 

He doesn’t even know if he’s in a position to miss Jaemin as much as he does. 

“I love you,”

He hurt Jaemin, that’s fair. He lied to Jaemin, that’s fair. He upset Jaemin, that’s fair. 

But more than guilt swimming in his gut, he’s hurt too. He’s been lied to too. He’s upset too. 

Jaemin didn’t want to break up with him. Jeno didn’t want to either, neither of them did. They were dumb and in love, engaged and blind to the real problems they were facing. Nothing was easy about the next step they were taking, but it seems that they weren’t ready for it. 

As Jeno sits here now, with the box of wedding rings in his hand and his tears flowing nonstop, he realizes what the two of them couldn’t before it was too late. 

Simply, they weren’t ready to step out of their fantasy bubble. 

They weren’t ready to understand the trials and tribulations that came with wanting to seal their love in a marriage, to own a house together, to bind themselves together for forever. 

It was what they wanted. It was what they wanted more than anything, and they both know that. Jeno thinks, even now, no matter what they tell themselves, they know that they want forever with each other. 

But forever won’t be perfect. 

Forever isn’t supposed to be perfect. 

Forever is supposed to be a goal, something they have to work for together. Forever is a challenge they need to face and overcome before they can enjoy themselves forever. 

But Jeno still thinks it’s worth it. 

If Jaemin will still have him, Jeno is ready to fight for forever with him. 

  
  
  


Jeno has lost count of how many days it has been without seeing Jaemin, but he wills himself not to think about it either. 

He doesn’t know what to do at this point, if this is where he tries to move on for good, or if this is where he fights tooth and nail for the love of his life. 

It seems like a no brainer, and to Jeno it is, he’s ready to get his fiancé back, but he doesn’t know if that’s what Jaemin wants. 

No matter where he is in life, he always seems to put what Jaemin wants above what he wants. He isn’t normally like this, he always does things for himself in moderation of doing things for others, but it seems like Jaemin is always the exception to whatever rules Jeno has. 

He wonders, as he looks up at the ceiling from where he’s laying down on the couch that doesn’t smell like Jaemin, if the younger is thinking about him. 

He wonders if Jaemin is wondering what it would’ve been like if he never got into the accident and lost his memories. What it would’ve been like if Jaemin never regained his memories. What it would’ve been like if Jaemin had regained his memories after a long time. 

_ What would Jeno have done?  _

He won’t glorify himself, he knows he would’ve kept everything a secret for a few more months, selfishly basking in what it felt like when they were freely in love. 

But he would’ve been honest when things got more serious, when things were bordering on putting their wedding into action. There was a possibility of breaking up even then, and Jeno doesn’t think the outcome would’ve been too different from what had happened, but selfishly, maybe they would’ve had more time to be the way they were. 

Jeno doesn’t know if it can be called selfish. Jaemin was able to forget all their problems for a glorious three months, and sometimes Jeno feels jealous. Irrationally jealous, envious over the fact that Jaemin had spent their time together without reality gnawing at the back of his mind. 

Jeno wishes he could’ve been able to live as comfortably, for three months. 

But reality isn’t perfect, and Jeno should’ve expected nothing good to come out from the way they were living. 

But he’s not above hoping, like a boy with stars in his eyes, like someone who believed anything was possible. 

Jeno’s eyes are welling up again, thoughts of Jaemin flooding his brain in the most painful way. 

None of them slip down his cheeks though, because he’s startled out of his thoughts when the doorbell to his apartment rings. 

He half expects it to be Renjun, checking up on him like he has been for the past few days, or maybe even Chenle with food, or maybe Jisung with a joke. His friends were weird with the way they comforted him during this time, but he appreciates how they try. 

He guesses he’s not easy to be around, constantly wallowing in his sadness. 

Nonetheless, he pulls himself up and off of his couch, dragging himself to answer the door. He doesn't care too much about what he looks like, sloppy and like he hasn’t showered in two days (because he hasn’t), but it’s just going to be one of his friends, so he doesn’t care too much. 

Jeno unlocks his front door, ready to burst into tears when he sees Renjun standing there, but instead, he freezes at the person on the other side. 

With disheveled hair, red rimmed eyes, blotchy cheeks, three cats in his arms, and a broken voice, Jaemin cries.

“I-I think Bongshik, S-Seol and Nal m-miss you, Jeno-ya.”

  
  
  


»«

  
  
  


The cats scurry out of Jaemin’s hold immediately after seeing Jeno, and the latter can’t help but wonder if they really did miss him. He knows he had missed their little, soft and furry presences, but he knows they’ve been keeping Jaemin good company. 

For Jaemin, he’d be willing to miss them for even longer. 

The three cats make their way back into Jeno’s apartment, almost as if they recognized this place. Jeno knows that cats always find their way back home, so he wonders which one between Jaemin’s house and Jeno’s apartment the cats consider home. 

Or maybe they’re like Jeno and consider Jaemin home. 

But that’s too deep of a thought for Seol, Bongshik and Nal, so Jeno just watches them happily as they run along his couch and across his bed. Only then, does he turn to face Jaemin. 

He’s still standing there with his hands by his sides, no longer occupied by the cats. His cheeks are still stained by tear tracks, his nose red, and his lips are bitten raw. If Jeno looks close enough, he can see that Jaemin’s pupils are shaking, and that his eyes are watering again. 

And that he doesn’t look away from Jeno. 

He doesn’t look past him and into the apartment he’s never seen before, he doesn’t distract himself by looking at the floor, doesn’t give the illusion that he’s looking at him but instead looking at the wall behind him. 

No, he’s looking at  _ him.  _ Right at him, with those big doll-like eyes, which hold so much in them. 

“I miss you,” Jaemin says thickly, swallowing down the lump in his throat right after. His fingers itch to grab onto the boy standing in front of him, somehow, in some way, but he doesn’t know if he’s allowed to. 

Jeno sighs.

“Are you drunk?” He asks seriously, trying to sound firm. He doesn’t want to sound like he’d crawl back to Jaemin at any given chance, despite knowing that deep inside, he probably would. 

He also doesn’t want to immediately believe Jaemin when the other says he misses him, not too keen on getting his heart stomped all over again. He guesses Jaemin is the only person in the entire universe who has the power of wreaking havoc on his heart more than once. 

“I’m not,” Jaemin sniffs, hating how stupid he sounds. God, if Donghyuck knew he was here, he’d be dead meat. 

Jaemin had convinced Donghyuck to go home, claiming that he’d been more than enough help and that he’ll be able to take care of himself from now on. Donghyuck had been extremely reluctant, for good reason, but when Jaemin had mentioned how lonely Mark must’ve been feeling having to fall asleep alone at night, Donghyuck had left with weary eyes. 

The reality behind Jaemin insisting on Donghyuck leaving was so that he wouldn’t be under the other’s watch as he goes to visit Jeno. 

Jisung had been a bit of help by supplying him with Jeno’s address, and even then some by helping him load the cats into the car. 

Jaemin had purposefully left Jeno’s things at his house, not wanting it to seem like he was returning that part of his life back to Jeno. 

Because Jeno wasn’t just some part of his life anymore, Jeno was his other half. His soulmate. And he didn’t want to leave here tonight without the other in tow. 

Maybe it’s wishful thinking, and above that maybe it’s selfish, but the only thing Jaemin knows is that he doesn’t want to lose Jeno. Not again.

Yes, he’s mad. 

Yes, he’s upset.

No, he doesn’t forgive Jeno.

But he also hadn’t heard him out, and he also snapped at the older boy without a care in the world. But he does care, Jaemin cares so much. 

Does he regret yelling at Jeno on the street all those days ago? No, not really. That had been how he was truly feeling, and he didn’t think he needed to sugarcoat it. Does he think that he hurt Jeno really bad with his words? Yes, and he feels terrible about it. Does he think that Jeno deserved what was coming to him? 

That… That was debatable. 

On one hand, Jaemin agrees that it was unnerving that Jeno had so easily slipped back into playing the role of his loving fiancé, sleeping next to him, cooking next to him and even kissing him. But on the other, he didn’t want to admit that he had, ashamedly, put Jeno in a hard position. 

It’s easily justifiable by saying that he didn’t remember, and that the Jaemin who cried and begged Mark to call Jeno was the Jaemin who didn’t know of all the pain and heartbreak they had endured. 

But using that excuse was dismissing the way Jaemin had reacted when he did remember. 

He couldn’t imagine being in Jeno’s shoes, if Jeno were the one who didn’t remember their breakup and all the pain that the last bits of their relationship suffered through. If Jeno were the one who didn’t remember their breakup and had insisted on Jaemin coming back into his life, back to living under the same roof as him as if nothing had changed. 

So was it selfish to be standing in Jeno’s doorway with his heart aching and tears brimming his eyes? 

Well, he’s not too sure.

“You don’t miss me,” Jeno finally says, but despite his words, he motions for Jaemin to come in. The latter is grateful, which is why he walks in without complaint, without tearing his eyes off of Jeno. “You think you do. You’re just mad at me.”

Jaemin sniffs again, toeing off his shoes. 

“I feel like by now, you should know not to tell me how I’m feeling,”

He doesn’t have to be looking at Jeno to know he gulps, he had Jeno’s every reaction and every habit imprinted into his brain. 

Because it’s hard to forget someone who tattooed themselves into your life. 

It’s even harder when you admit that you don’t want to forget them. 

“Do you want something to drink?” Jeno asks him quietly, keeping his eyes trained on the floor. 

Compared to how Jeno had to go through hallways, bedrooms, closets and drawers to find out about Jaemin’s life after he had moved in after the accident, everything of Jeno’s is displayed here in the openness of his apartment. He doesn’t have any walls, or any barriers hiding his life, it’s all right here. 

But Jaemin doesn’t seem to be looking at any of that. Still, he’s only looking at Jeno, as if nothing else in the apartment interested him. 

Jeno could say the same.

“No—” Jaemin clears his throat before continuing, and Jeno tries not to react to the flustered blush which paints his cheeks. “No thank you.”

Jeno purses his lips at how croaky Jaemin’s voice comes out, clearly from crying, sighing as he grabs a mug and turns on the hot water kettle. 

“I’ll make you tea.”

Jaemin immediately protests.

“I don’t—”

“—Like tea, I know,” Jeno cuts off. He’s not facing Jaemin anymore, turned away to stare at the kettle, like looking at it will make the water boil quicker. “But you sound like a train wreck.”

Jeno doesn’t know why he doesn’t bother to filter his thoughts before he speaks, maybe it was because he strangely felt like he didn’t need to. After everything, he doesn’t think there’s much to hide from Jaemin. 

“Sorry,” Jaemin mumbles, standing as stiff as a board in the middle of the kitchen. He doesn’t know if he’s allowed to take a seat, or if he’s allowed to even touch anything. It sounds ridiculous when he remembers that less than a month ago, Jeno was pleading for them to get married. 

“For what? Being upset?” The other boy asks, shaking his head without even waiting for an answer. Jaemin expects him to say something following that, but he doesn’t. 

“Force of habit, maybe,” he whispers, intentionally ignoring the way Jeno tenses and stops moving. 

At the mention of the ‘habit’, Jeno is brought back to the times where their idealistic, picture perfect, relationship started to crumble before their eyes. 

There wasn’t always a time when Jeno and Jaemin would both apologize for the smallest things without meaning it, much less when they would both let the other person get away with their bullshit. 

But that was a time where they were both tired. 

Tired of what they’ve gotten themselves into, tired of what it looked like the future would be holding for them, tired of trying to make something work.

That was mistake number one: growing tired. 

They weren’t meant to grow tired together, they were meant to grow old together. 

“Don’t say things like,” Jeno mutters after the silence draws out long enough. Coincidentally, it’s also when the kettle is finished boiling. 

Jeno busies himself with pouring the scalding hot water into the mug over the teabag, holding the cup by the handle as he turns to hand it to Jaemin. 

He’s a bit surprised to see that he’s still standing. 

“Please, sit down,” 

So Jaemin follows Jeno and where he sets the mug down on the small round table, pulling a chair out. Albeit hesitant, Jaemin takes the seat as well as the tea, blowing on it gently and trying not to grimace at the scent wafting from the mug. 

Jeno probably knows he’s holding in his distaste, but he doesn’t say anything about it. Instead, he sits down opposite of Jaemin on another chair, and now they’re both staring at each other. 

Jaemin knows his tea is still piping hot, but drinking it is better than staring at Jeno awkwardly, who he can’t read any emotion off of. 

So he takes a horrendous sip, and swallows it down reluctantly. He’s glad that it soothes his throat, but that doesn’t mean he likes the taste. 

“You didn’t have to…” Jaemin starts, clearing his throat and sitting up a bit straighter. 

“I told you, your voice is wrecked,” Jeno explains again. He looks Jaemin up and down when he’s done, and the younger wants to know what’s running through his mind. 

Instead, he clarifies what he meant. 

“You didn’t have to come to the hospital if you didn’t want to,” 

There’s complete silence between them again, but when Jaemin looks at Jeno, his expression hasn’t changed. He’s still looking at him blankly, still sitting back on his chair with his arms crossed over his chest. The only remote sounds to be heard are the cats busying themselves. 

“I did,” Jeno says firmly, sitting up just a little straighter in his chair. “… You called for me. Gave Mark a hard time about it.”

“But you shouldn’t have come,” Jaemin pushes, taking another sip of tea before he says something more compromising. 

Jeno’s eyebrows furrow at what Jaemin says, almost looking as if he were offended. 

“ _ ‘Shouldn’t have come’ _ ?” He repeats, cocking his head to the side as he leans a bit over the table, looking like he was just a bit angry. “You were my responsibility for years—  _ We  _ were  _ each other’s  _ responsibility for years, and I just shouldn’t have come? When the boy I loved—  _ Love—  _ was crying about me not being there when he woke up from a car accident? Is that the type of person you pin me for?” 

Jaemin turns his head to the side, unable to meet the fire in Jeno’s eyes. He can hear the aggression behind his words despite the other trying to hide it, and he feels something akin to shame bubbling in his chest for even suggesting something like that. 

He understands Jeno’s feelings of wanting to be there for the person he loves, that’s why Jaemin is sitting in Jeno’s damn kitchen right now, but he  _ knows  _ it was a different circumstance back then. 

Because Jeno didn’t know he loved Jaemin when he dragged himself to the hospital. He shouldn’t have shown up if he didn’t want to, if it made him uncomfortable, no matter Jaemin’s pity party. 

“You didn’t  _ want  _ to.”

“You don’t know that,”

“You didn’t love me anymore at that point—”

“Who said that?”

Jaemin’s words die in his throat at Jeno’s question, asked with a soft voice but a challenging tone. 

He doesn’t know what to say to that. 

“Who said I stopped loving you?” Jeno asks again, this time gently, easing Jaemin back into looking at him. “You don’t stop loving the light of your life.”

“Jeno…”

“Did you stop loving me?” He asks, inquisitive but also a little vulnerable. He sounds like he has a fear of not wanting to know the answer, but Jaemin has a feeling that he already does. “When we broke up, did you stop loving me?”

Jaemin’s bottom lip catches between his teeth as the silence spreads between them again, as he tries to look anywhere but the desperate look in Jeno’s eyes. 

He already knows the answer, he’s always known the answer, but he’s afraid of what it’ll unpack. 

Sure, he came here to talk about exactly this with Jeno, but he’s scared of it now that it’s actually happening. 

“You know the answer already,” he finally sighs, looking down at the darkening liquid in his mud. It’s too dark to even find bearable at this point, courtesy of the steeping tea bag, and Jaemin knows he won’t be taking another sip. 

“I  _ don’t _ ,” Jeno says, face hardening once more. “You didn’t say a thing, we broke up, and you think I know the answer? I can’t read your mind, Jaemin.”

“Of course I didn’t stop loving you,” Jaemin answers, a bit louder this time. Now he’s the one who’s offended by Jeno’s words. “Why would you think—”

“Why did we break up?” Jeno cuts Jaemin off, already knowing what the younger’s question would be. Instead, he asks what’s been plaguing his mind for months. 

He’s never known the precise reason, and while he did come to his own conclusion earlier this evening, he doesn’t know what Jaemin’s reason was. Maybe it’d be the same reason, maybe it’d be completely different. All Jeno knows is that he’s tired of not knowing. 

“Jeno,” Jaemin glares, a warning in his tone. 

“Can you not answer the question? Is it because you didn’t love me, huh Jaemin? Did you lie just now—”

“Because I felt sorry!” 

Effectively, Jaemin manages to shut Jeno up. While his wording wasn’t what he wanted, at least now he has Jeno’s full attention. 

“I felt sorry for us. We’d talk about a wedding that didn’t seem like it was going to happen, we slept in a bed where we didn’t know if it would be our last night,” he starts, finally vocalizing every thought he’s been having about their relationship for as long as he can remember. “We said  _ ‘I love you’ _ but the sparkle was gone… 

“Jeno, we were falling out of love.” 

“Jaemin,” Jeno calls, sounding eerily calm after just hearing everything he’s said. He takes a deep breath through his nose, locking eye contact with the younger. “I loved you every single day, since we got together, to right now. I loved you the day I walked out of that house too, and you know that.”

Jaemin shakes his head midway through Jeno’s words, not stopping even after he’s done. 

“Maybe you thought you still loved me, but it didn’t feel like  _ Jeno _ . We weren’t  _ in love  _ anymore, even if we did love each other. Can’t you remember? Day in and day out was working to save money for something we weren’t even sure we wanted. Petty arguments here and there because our strings were being pulled too tight. 

“It didn’t matter if we loved each other, we were falling apart.”

“How can you say that? How can you say that so confidently, that we were falling out of love? You just said you never stopped loving me!”

Jaemin feels the corner of his eyes sting, but he pushes through without letting his tears fall. 

“You don’t realize what you let go of until it’s gone. You didn’t  _ really  _ love me again until you started living with me again, did you?” 

Jeno doesn’t have anything to immediately say to that, finding the truth behind Jaemin’s words. 

Although right now, he doesn’t believe that he was over Jaemin in those six months they spent apart, he knows that he didn’t love Jaemin in the six months the way that he does now. He doesn’t even love Jaemin the way he did when they were engaged, compared to the way he does now. 

“So you just broke up with me?” Jeno asks after a while, voice weaker, bordering on a whisper. Sure, fine, now he has his answer towards why they broke up. But it’s just that: an answer. “You didn’t try to work it out?”

Jaemin admits that hearing how fragile Jeno sounds right now is breaking his heart, but he also knows that this is a good time to remind Jeno that he isn’t completely innocent in this either. They both messed up, and this is where Jaemin’s mess up is the most prominent. 

“I was scared,” he says quietly, ashamed of his answer. “I was scared that we’d end up worse than we already were if we tried to talk about it.”

Jaemin can see the way Jeno’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion when he finally musters up enough courage to look at him again. He can also see the way he opens his mouth to start talking, probably to name everything wrong with what Jaemin had just said, but the younger beats him to it. 

“It was an irrational fear, I know. Nothing good comes out of not communicating,” he mumbles. “And I don’t have an excuse Jeno. I thought I was in love with you, I was scared, and I didn’t want to face the fact that my engagement was falling out. I didn’t want to grow out of the perfect fantasy we built for ourselves.”

At these words, Jeno’s conclusion about their breakup is proven true. 

They weren’t ready to face the realities of the future they were trying to build together. 

“I think I understand that,” he says softly. “We weren’t… Ready,” he sighs, and it feels like a wright has been lifted off of his shoulders. “Jaemin, we weren’t ready.”

To the both of them, the admission makes their hearts feel lighter, leaves months of unanswered questions and confused feelings solved. 

“So does that mean…” 

“Jaemin, we can take it slow if you’d like,” Jeno whispers, twiddling with his thumbs. “But I’d really, really like to be with you again.”

“I don’t think there’s any space to take it slow when we were technically engaged for the past few months,” Jaemin laughs lightly, beaming at Jeno’s words while also trying to lighten the solemn atmosphere. He thinks it works, until he sees Jeno’s lips still into a thin line. 

“Are you mad at me for that? For… Being with you?” He asks carefully. 

Jaemin doesn’t need to think about it anymore, now that they’ve had this conversation. 

“I was but, I understand why you did it,” Jaemin assures, smiling shyly down at the mug of tea in front of him. “I liked being with you, Jeno-ya, I  _ like  _ being with you.”

It’s Jaemin’s smile that makes Jeno break out into one of his own, reaching across the table to hold the younger’s hand like it was his first time doing so. 

“Does that mean we’re still engaged?” 

Jaemin smiles brighter this time, squeezing Jeno’s hand tight. 

“Yeah, but I’m in no rush to get married. As long as I get you, I’m happy.” 

Jeno’s smile seems to light the room up brighter than it already is, and when he casts a glance to the window behind Jaemin, he frowns a little. 

“Do you need to get home?” He asks, noting how dark it already was outside. 

“Hm? I’m already with him though?” Jaemin asks innocently, tilting his head to the side in mock confusion. 

Jeno for sure knows they’re okay now. 

“That’s an awfully flirtatious way to say you want to stay the night,” the older boy sighs, running his thumb over Jaemin’s knuckles. “It’s not like I would’ve made you leave. Unlike you.” 

Jaemin gasps, offended, and Jeno cackles. Maybe it was way too soon to make jokes about their break up, but if he and Jaemin could laugh like this, he guesses it’s okay. 

Plus, humour is a coping mechanism, he’s pretty sure. 

Just as Jaemin is about to say something more, Seol hops onto his lap, while Bongshik and Nal hop onto Jeno’s. 

“I told you they missed you,” Jaemin says fondly, scratching right between Seol’s ears. The cat preens under his touch, curling up comfortably.

“Jaemin-ah,” Jeno sighs, standing up and holding both Bongshik and Nal is either of his arms. He takes the short steps there until he reaches right beside Jaemin, bending down slightly and kisses his cheek.

“I missed you more.” 

  
  
  


»«

  
  
  


Wearing Jeno’s clothes, sleeping in Jeno’s bed, having Jeno’s arms around him, has never felt as good as it does right now. 

There are no four walls, there are no pictures hanging adjacent to them, there are no curtains on the left hand side which Jeno had forgotten to draw closed,  _ but _ there’s Jeno. 

And that’s all there needs to be for Jaemin to feel like he’s home. 

Because he doesn’t need the two levels, the staircase that’s littered with cat hairs, the kitchen with the absurd amount of mugs. All he needs is Jeno. 

“I have a question,” Jeno mumbles, cutting through the perfect silence between them. His hands are in Jaemin’s hair, pulling through the strands with a careful touch, one that makes Jaemin feel like he's the only person in Jeno’s world. 

“I may have an answer,” Jaemin hums his response, drawing circles on Jeno’s bare waist with his fingertips. It feels like it’s been way too long since he’s touched Jeno’s skin like this, and he doesn’t want to take time with Jeno for granted ever again. 

“When I moved back in,” the older boy says quietly, looking blankly at the wall behind Jaemin. “You still had some photos up. You still had the wedding invitation up. You left my desk in the office room untouched…” 

“Are you going to ask me why I left things like that?” Jaemin finishes for him, only to earn a nod as affirmation from Jeno. A soft smile comes onto his face before he answers. “It made me feel better. It made it seem like you were still around.” 

Jeno doesn’t say anything immediately, Jaemin doesn’t expect him to. Saying it out loud, his reason sounds kind of stupid. But at the time, leaving things the way they were gave him an immense amount of comfort. 

“I’m sorry,” Jeno finally says, halting his movements in Jaemin’s hair. He uses that hand to bring Jaemin’s head closer to him, tucking him away safely. “I’m not going anywhere ever again,” he assures. He doesn’t know if it was more for his sanity or Jaemin’s. 

“Don’t apologize anymore,” Jaemin mumbles from his spot, squished in Jeno’s arms and brought close to his neck. “All that matters is right now, okay?” 

“Okay,” Jeno sighs, pressing a soft kiss to Jaemin’s temple. He may not want to believe Jaemin, and he may always be internally apologizing, but he knows that being with Jaemin again will help him from now on. 

“I have a question too,” Jaemin pipes up, rearranging himself in Jeno’s arms. He shifts around until his head is laid comfortably on the other’s shoulder, looking up at him like he held the skies in his eyes. And perhaps he did, because Jaemin thinks Jeno holds  _ his _ skies. “How did you, Donghyuck and Mark hyung get along?” 

Jeno snorts without meaning to, clearing his throat right after. 

“We didn’t. It was just a silent agreement to put up a front for you,” he explains, hoping his tone doesn’t convey how irritating it was to do. 

“Oh,” is all Jaemin says, and it sounds quiet. Too quiet for Jeno’s liking. 

“Why?” He asks, looking down at Jaemin for an extra moment. He tries to gage what emotions are on the younger’s face or in his eyes, but he comes up with nothing. 

“It must’ve been hard,” Jaemin finally says. “Flipping your life upside down.” 

Jeno thinks about it before answering. 

It wasn’t as weird as he thought it’d be, but that was probably because Jeno was subconsciously yearning to go back to living the way he was. 

He couldn’t say the same thing about Mark and Donghyuck, though he doubts that they could’ve had a big enough problem with it though, they were the two people closest to Jaemin. 

So yeah, Jeno’s life was flipped upside down thanks to one phone call, but he doesn’t think it was a burden. 

Nothing about Jaemin could be a burden. 

“Not really,” he answers softly, pulling the blanket over the two of them tighter. That’s something in common between his apartment and Jaemin’s house, he guesses, how cold they both are. “I liked being with you.”

“You can be with me forever, okay? No more pretending to, I promise,” Jaemin says seriously, sticking his pinky finger out. 

Jeno lets out a little laugh at the sight of Jaemin’s pinky, raising an eyebrow. 

“Promise,” Jaemin repeats, wiggling his pinky. Jeno sighs fondly, but with a smile nonetheless, and locks their fingers together. 

“Promise.” 

Content, Jaemin snuggles into Jeno’s chest more, until there wasn’t even space for air to pass between their bodies. 

“Do you wanna move back in with me?” 

Jeno thinks the question is a no brainer, especially when he looks around his apartment and sees no signs of Jaemin, no signs of  _ them.  _

His apartment feels dull compared to the months he’s spent under Jaemin’s roof, where their presence was loud and permanent, because it was  _ their  _ spot. It’s  _ their  _ home, and why would Jeno ever pass up the chance to be home? 

“Is that even a question?” Jeno says happily, kissing Jaemin’s lips softly right after. He can tell Jaemin is smiling against his lips, but he thinks it’s cute, so he lets it be. “Of course I do.” 

“Good,” Jaemin smiles. “Because this place is cute and all, but it’s a mess, Jen.”

Jeno is well aware that he doesn’t keep his place as clean as Jaemin does, not really caring about where he throws clothes or how big the pile of dishes in the sink gets. He learned to care when he was living with Jaemin, but it was a different story when he was alone. 

“I know,” Jeno sighs, slotting his leg between Jaemin’s legs under the blanket. “You’re not here to keep me in check,” he pouts, to which Jaemin rolls his eyes fondly. 

“I’m gonna be there for forever now, okay? Don’t worry too much,” Jaemin promises, leaning up and pressing another kiss to Jeno’s lips. “Forever Jeno, you’re stuck with me now,” he teases, sticking his tongue out childishly. 

But Jeno doesn’t mind Jaemin’s words, instead, he hopes there’s truth behind them. 

“Honestly? That sounds very nice, Jaeminnie.”

  
  
  


It’s been too long since Jeno has seen Jaemin in the kitchen after he wakes up, so he’s more than pleasantly surprised when he watches Jaemin fiddle with Jeno’s waffle maker from the bed. 

He guesses this is something he likes about his apartment, he doesn’t have to get up to admire Jaemin standing in the kitchen in only Jeno’s oversized t-shirt and a pair of boxers. 

Jaemin seems to notice Jeno is awake by the sound of the sheets rustling and bed springs creaking. Sound travels fast in a small space, especially one where there wasn’t anything but the cats’ tiny nails tapping against the floor as the other source of sound. 

“Is this new? It looks like it’s never been used,” Jaemin asks from the kitchen, holding up the waffle iron. 

Jeno sits up, ignoring the way Jaemin oggles at his bare chest once the blanket pools around his waist. 

“I never used it,” Jeno confirms, stretching his arms over his head as he lets out a yawn. “I’m not talented in the kitchen, much less with kitchen appliances.” 

Jaemin only hums as he turns back to figuring out how to use the waffle iron, deaf to the sounds of Jeno getting up and tossing some random articles of clothes on. 

He then makes his way to put food out for the cats, replacing the water in their bowls too. Jeno takes his time petting them as they eat, stroking between their ears and along their backs. He won’t say it out loud in case Jaemin feels guilty, but he really missed them. 

He felt like he had a reason to come home everyday when he was away from Jaemin, knowing he had to feed them and take care of them. It never did feel like a chore though. 

Where Jaemin used to be, and is now again, his motivation for coming home at the end of the day, during the six months they spent apart, his motivation was Bongshik, Seol and Nal. 

A smile would always come onto his face when he remembered he had three, adorable little cats waiting for him back at home. Three adorable little cats who would love to lay in bed with him and replace the company of someone he didn’t know he dearly missed. 

Their cats had become somewhat of Jeno’s emotional support, despite not being able to do much except vent and not get any answers back, but he loves them. 

“Jen baby, where do you keep your ladles?”

Jaemin’s question breaks Jeno out of his daydreams, ruffing each cat’s head once before getting back up. 

He makes his way to the kitchen, where Jaemin stands in front of the plugged in waffle iron and a bowl of what he assumes is waffle batter. 

“In this drawer,” he mumbles as he reaches around to a drawer near where Jaemin is standing. He grabs the ladle from inside and hands it to Jaemin, smiling softly when he gets a good look at the younger’s face for the first time since he woke up. 

Jaemin’s hair is messy, blue and grown out at the roots. It’s sticking up everywhere, and it doesn’t look like he’s bothered to fix it in any way. 

The shirt he’s wearing is also pretty wrinkled, but he guesses that’s more of Jeno’s own fault for leaving his shirts laying around without much care. He didn’t think anyone else would be wearing them any time soon anyways. 

But he still looks so unconventionally pretty to Jeno. With his pale morning face and slight eye bags— they hadn’t gotten a lot of sleep last night. His eyebrows are also a tad messy, but Jeno thinks he looks like the sun. 

“Why are you staring at me?” Jaemin laughs, looking down bashfully. Jeno can tell he's a little shy, if the light pink dusting his cheeks is anything to go by. 

“What? I can’t look at you?” Jeno scoffs, leaning back on the counter so that Jaemin could have enough room to manoeuvre around. 

“Look at me all you want, please do, but don’t look at me like you wanna eat me,” Jaemin answers, spraying cooking oil that Jeno didn’t even know he had onto the waffle iron. 

“But I do,” Jeno grins, a bit glad that Jaemin can’t see him. He has no doubt in his mind that Jaemin would’ve simply rolled his eyes or maybe glared at him for saying that. “You’re not wearing pants babe, what else do you want me to do?”

“Set the table,” Jaemin deadpans, still not turning around. Jeno watches him ladle batter into the waffle iron, locking it shut and flipping it around right after. 

Huh.

So that’s how you use it.

“Brush your teeth,” Jaemin continues, now looking back at him. His arms are crossed over his chest as he stares at Jeno up and down, tsking lightly when he reaches his face. “Maybe wipe the dried drool off of your face.” 

Jeno’s hand scrambles up to the corners of his mouth at that, wiping away harshly. He doesn’t know why he’s suddenly embarrassed, Jaemin has seen him in worse conditions. He’s sure of that. 

“Anyway,” Jeno coughs, hopping off of the counter and cornering Jaemin against the other one. “What do you wanna do today?” 

Jaemin takes a minute or so to think about it, turning around for a moment to take the first waffle out of the iron and adding the second one in. When he turns back around, he answers. 

“Lay around?” He says suggestively, poking a fingertip on Jeno’s chest. He trails it down his chest and traces his abs through the fabric, grinning innocently back up at Jeno, who looks at him with a quirked eyebrow. 

“That’s all?” The older boy asks, a little taken aback by the simplicity of Jaemin’s request. “Just be lazy all day?” 

“Why?” Jaemin pouts, bringing his arms around Jeno’s shoulders now. “Don’t you wanna do nothing?” 

“I don’t mind what we do. I just missed you a lot,”

Jaemin’s expression softens at that, melting into something more fond and filled with adoration. Jeno grins at it, but that also gets wiped off of his face when Jaemin leans in and kisses him. 

Jeno makes a sound of surprise which quickly gets masked away by him kissing back, hands on either of Jaemin on the counter for stability. 

“I missed you more,” Jaemin says against his lips, thumbing his cheek lovingly. “I love you so much, Jeno-ya.” 

Grinning again, wider than before, Jeno leans in and pecks Jaemin’s lips. 

“I love you too, Jaemin-ah.” 

  
  
  


»«

  
  
  


Bliss doesn’t last forever. 

It’s subsequential, and Jaemin feels like he’s already known this. 

He’s known this when the realities of adult life weighed down on him after graduation, he’s known this when his future wedding became more of a burden than something to look forward to, he’s known this when he broke up with his fiancé.

But it’s nice to pretend sometimes. 

It’s nice to pretend like reality is picture perfect, as long as you know there’s a world that’s spinning outside of your picture frame. 

Jaemin guesses today is the day his picture breaks. 

He guesses it was nice while it lasted, the sole twenty four hours spent in bliss at Jeno’s apartment. Wrapped up in the love of his life’s arms while also mimicking the domesticity he missed for the weeks they were separated for. 

Jaemin would say the past twenty four hours have been more than bliss; he’s learned a lot. 

From waking up next to Jeno, to brushing their teeth together in the bathroom, cooking side by side and spending time together doing mundane things, Jaemin has a new found appreciation for cherishing what’s closest to you before you can’t anymore. 

Sure, during their break up, he was also in a state of missing Jeno’s presence everywhere in his life, but that was more of exactly just that: missing Jeno’s presence. 

Now though, Jaemin is appreciative of every second spent with Jeno beyond belief. Every breath shared with him, every step taken with him, every meal eaten together. 

Jaemin knows that from now on, it’s awakening, looking at your life from an appreciative perspective.

And despite thinking like that, he wonders if he’s appreciative for the knock on Jeno’s apartment door tonight. 

Jeno pulls away from him, breaths still fanning each other’s faces and heartbeats hammering against their chests in sync. 

Jaemin opens his eyes to the sight of Jeno already looking at him, eyes staring pointedly at his lips as he runs his tongue over his own, spit slicked ones. 

Jeno leans in for another kiss, and Jaemin lets him for a few seconds before there’s another, more frantic knock at the front door. 

It’s with extreme reluctance that Jaemin breaks their kiss, putting a hand on Jeno’s chest to keep their distance. 

“You should answer the door,” he says breathlessly. Jeno only groans, though he knows it’s inevitable. Unless they want to be disrupted again by the annoying knocking. 

“Why don’t you go get it?” Jeno grumbles, getting up from the couch nonetheless. He’s adjusting his rumpled t-shirt as he heads towards the door, running his hand through his disheveled hair too. Jaemin has to hold himself back from making a comment about how effortlessly  _ hot  _ Jeno looks, though he has an idea Jeno already knows that. 

“Because I knew you’d do it for me,” Jaemin teases from back on the couch, where he also fixes up his appearance for extra measure. He’s not sure who’ll be at the door, but there’s a pretty high chance whoever it is will see him from the doorway, so better to be safe than sorry. 

“I spoil you too much,” Jeno mutters, but Jaemin is still able to catch onto it. 

“Absolutely,”

Jeno’s hand is on the doorknob when another series of irritated knocks sound through, to which Jeno rolls his eyes before unlocking the door. 

He has half the mind to be annoying and say something snarky when he opens the door, but when he sees the two faces on the other side, it’s like all his words die in his throat. 

He’s speechless. 

Jaemin notices the silence, and is unable to see just who’s on the other side of the door clearly from here. 

He furrows his eyebrows as he gets up, having half the mind to run his own hand through his hair. Where he ruined Jeno’s hair, he’s sure Jeno didn’t do anything less to him. 

“Jen baby? Who’s at the door?” He asks as he makes his way closer, the corner of his lips now downturned as he notices how frozen Jeno’s frame is. 

But then he takes a few steps closer to where Jeno is standing, and feels like the blood in his veins turn to ice, rendering him equally as frozen as his fiancé. 

Standing there, looking the angriest Jaemin has ever seen him, is Donghyuck, with an equally stoic Mark standing behind him. 

As speechless as Jeno, Jaemin finds his mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water. He’s at a loss of words, tens of questions pummeling inside of his brian at the same time. 

_ Why are they here? Did they know I was here? How did they know I was here? How did they find Jeno’s address? Am I going to die today— _

“Jaemin,” Donghyuck’s steely voice brings Jaemin back from his thoughts, cold and dripping with something akin to ice. 

Jaemin doesn’t think he’s ever heard his expressive and emotional best friend ever sound this monotone, and he’d be lying if he said it didn’t make his heart drop to his stomach. 

He’s too scared to answer Donghyuck, so the latter takes his silence as an invitation to continue speaking. 

“Funny how I knew you’d be here,” he laughs sarcastically, quirking his lips up condescendingly. 

For some reason, Jaemin feels small under his best friend and brother’s gazes, subconsciously hiding himself behind Jeno. 

Their stares make him feel like he did something wrong, like spending the past day with Jeno was the wrong decision. Realistically, Jaemin knows that thought is ridiculous, Jaemin hasn’t felt this happy in weeks. 

“Jaemin,” Donghyuck calls again, snapping Jaemin’s eyes off of the floor and directly onto him again. “Why the hell are you here?” 

Donghyuck’s question is too direct for Jaemin to answer immediately, so he settles on pulling his bottom lip between his teeth and asking another question instead. 

“Why are you here?” He asks, sparing Mark a quick glance. He can’t gage anything off of Mark’s facial expression, nor his eyes, and he doesn’t think he remembers a time where he hasn’t been able to read Mark like an open book. 

“Why are  _ you  _ here?” Donghyuck fires back, not even sparing Jeno another glance. It makes it seem like they’re the only two having a conversation, and like the other two boys aren’t there. “I brought Mark hyung to your house so you two could fix whatever was going on, only to find out that you weren’t home. Imagine my surprise when Park Jisung was walking out of your house. You’ll have to explain that later, but now it looks like you’re the one who owes Mark an apology.”

Despite feeling minuscule compared to Donghyuck, his words still make Jaemin furrow his eyebrows with a frown. 

Apologize to Mark? 

What did he have to apologize for?

“For what?” Jaemin asks, looking between Donghyuck and Mark incredulously when neither of them answer, simply looking at him with expectant, raised eyebrows. 

And then, it dawns on Jaemin what they mean. When both their eyes flicker to Jeno for a split second, Jaemin understands. 

“No,” he immediately says upon realization, startling himself and the other three boys around him with how cold his voice sounds. 

Donghyuck and Mark could be mad at him, sure, that was fine. But they surely couldn’t get mad at him for seeing Jeno, could they? Nonetheless expect him to apologize about coming to see his literal  _ fiancé _ ? 

It’s not even like he needed their damn permission, he’s an adult! He’s his own person and he lives alone, he doesn’t need Donghyuck looking after him like a baby, much less Mark doing the same thing. 

Because he won’t. That doesn’t even make any sense, Jeno is the other half of his heart! Did Donghyuck and Mark just expect him to always stay away from him? 

It would’ve killed him. 

“No?” Mark questions, speaking up for the first time since they’ve arrived. Jeno startles a bit beside him, almost as if he forgot Mark was even there. “So you kick me out of your house when I bring Jeno to you, but you’re going to bring  _ yourself  _ to him without throwing a fit?” 

Mark adds a scoff to the end of his question, and for some reason, it makes Jaemin even more mad than he already was. 

Why was Mark suddenly acting like a saint?

Sure, when he brings up how angry Jaemin got at the initial knowledge that it was Mark who called Jeno to come to the hospital, Jaemin can see why he’d be offended that he had willingly come here to see Jeno himself. 

But Jaemin has also come to realize how irrational he was when he got angry at Mark. He was only doing what Jaemin wanted at the time, and he knows Mark loves him. With the way he was crying for Jeno, it must’ve twisted Mark’s heart in a painful way. There’s no one in the world who knows Jaemin better than Mark. 

Then shouldn’t Mark know that he wasn’t in his right mind when he blew up at Mark? 

Why was he suddenly expected to apologize for something everyone here knows he would’ve done eventually? Much less something he shouldn’t have to apologize for? 

Jaemin never apologizes for his feelings. 

“Shut up,” Jaemin spits, unable to stop himself. He glares at Mark, who glares back equally as hard. “It shouldn’t matter to you what I do, much less when it’s about my relationship,” he says firmly, stepping out from where he was behind Jeno. 

“You’re my fucking brother, Jaemin,” Mark fires back, arms crossed over his chest and looking every bit intimidating. There was a point in his life where he was genuinely afraid of Mark when he was angry, but now, with his emotions strung high and feeling defenseful, Jaemin isn’t afraid of either of them. “And you think I’ll just let you crawl back to the fucker who hurt you after getting shit for it from you?”

Jaemin doesn’t know what it’s like when your eyesight suddenly goes red, but he’s pretty sure it’s something like what’s happening now. 

He’s beyond angry at Mark’s choice of words. 

“Don’t call him that,” Jaemin seethes. “And don’t make it seem like you have a say over what I do.  _ My _ life,  _ my _ relationship,  _ my _ fiancé.”

At the mention of fiancé, Jaemin sees a flash of annoyance pass through Donghyuck’s eyes. 

“Fiancé? Are you serious, Jaemin? Are you that easy?”

Jaemin can see Mark falter a little at Donghyuck’s words, but he doesn’t pay it too much mind over how hurt he feels that Donghyuck would say something like that to him. 

“Watch your mouth,” he settles on saying. “Watch your fucking mouth, Donghyuck. I didn’t ask you to come over today, if anything I asked you to leave. And I definitely did not ask you for permission to be with Jeno.”

“Leave?” Donghyuck repeats, taking a step closer. “You bring all your business to me, Jaemin. Who was the one whose arms you cried yourself to sleep in? Who had to take care of you over this loser?” He asks, growing louder with each word. “You should be grateful I take your business without a complaint, Jaemin, that I take care of you!”

Jaemin is taken aback by the sheer volume and intensity of Donghyuck’s words, and from the way Jeno flinches beside him, Jaemin guesses he is too. 

But more than that, Jaemin is taken aback by how Donghyuck is talking about him. 

Like a chore. 

Like a task. 

Like a burden. 

And that doesn’t sit right with Jaemin at all. 

“You should’ve told me I was too much of a burden,” he hisses, also talking a step closer. He doesn’t know why he does, maybe to assert himself, maybe to feel less small under Donghyuck’s words. 

He’d be lying if he said they didn’t hurt, they hurt a lot. This is his best friend who’s talking about him like this, and it’s honestly the last thing he expected from Donghyuck. 

“And then what? Let you wallow in your own patheticness?”

Surprisingly, it’s not Jaemin who gasps, but Jeno and Mark. 

The two of them must also be taken aback by how Donghyuck is speaking. 

“I’m glad you’re being transparent now,” Jaemin grits. “Pathetic, huh? Because that’s all I was when I broke up with my financé for the second time, right?”

Jaemin doesn’t mean to guilt trip, he never does, but this time it slips, and the least he can hope for is that it makes Donghyuck realize what he’s saying. 

But instead, Donghyuck fires back with,

“I wouldn’t know. My relationship isn’t as fucked up as yours.”

And that, that seems to do it for Jaemin. 

First, the two of them show up here unannounced. 

Then, they have the audacity to ask him to apologize for fixing things with his fiancé. 

And now, Donghyuck thinks he can badmouth his relationship. 

Jaemin is lunging at Donghyuck before he even realizes it, adrenaline coursing through his veins and anger exploding from within. 

He never thought this was how Donghyuck viewed their relationship, but he’s glad he’s finding out. All he ever did was support Donghyuck’s relationships and endeavours, so he feels like he doesn’t deserve to be spoken to like this. 

Thankfully, Jeno is holding him back before he can so much as get his hands on Donghyuck, making sure he doesn’t do something he’ll regret. Mark does the same, though it’s a bit easier to tame Donghyuck. 

It makes Jaemin wonder if the words he said don't phase him at all. 

“Take that back!” Jaemin yells, not a care in the world about Jeno’s neighbours that they may be disrupting. All he cares about now is how Donghyuck doesn’t see the pain both Jaemin and Jeno have gone through to make it to this point in their relationship. “You don’t even mean it! Take it back!”

And maybe it’s just Jaemin hoping that Donghyuck didn’t mean it. Maybe he just wishes that Donghyuck is also as high strung on emotions, just as clouded by his feelings. 

But he looks so eerily calm that it’s unsettling, and Jaemin’s paranoia can’t help but think that Donghyuck genuinely means those words and has always thought this about his five year relationship with Jeno. 

“Take what back? The truth? If you can’t see it, maybe you’re just as fucked up as Jeno!”

Jaemin lets his tears spill over at that, taken aback by how hostile Donghyuck can be about this. 

It’s like his pain meant nothing to Donghyuck. 

Why was he disregarding everything he’s seen unfold about their relationship? All of this over what? Over fixing things with his other half? 

And Mark, dear God, Mark who just watches everything without saying anything, like he was silently agreeing with everything Donghyuck was saying. 

At this point in the night, Jaemin wouldn’t put it past him. 

“Shut up,” Jaemin cries, staring at Donghyuck through his blurry vision. “You don’t mean it! You don’t mean it, you don’t think that!”

“Can’t handle the truth?” Donghyuck questions, raising an eyebrow. He looks so indifferent about Jaemin crying in front of him that it makes Jaemin’s head hurt. “You chose Jeno over Mark, Jaemin. Your  _ family _ . And then you tell me you can handle yourself on your own, just to be  _ weak _ and come back here?” Donghyuck scoffs, as if he thinks Jaemin is ridiculous. “Grow up, Jaemin.”

Jaemin forgets the reason why Donghyuck and Mark even came here, too focused on why it hurts so much to hear Donghyuck talk about him like this. In all their years of friendship, Donghyuck had never acted this way towards him. 

Jaemin briefly wonders if there’s something deeper than just Donghyuck’s irritation towards finding Jaemin here that’s making him act like this, but the thought disappears when Mark starts speaking again. 

“Come home with us Jaem,” Mark says softly, as if talking to a child who didn’t know any better. “You need to rethink everything.” 

Jaemin’s tears are still streaming down his face, not saying a word as he looks between the two boys in front of them.

For all the time he’s known Mark and Donghyuck, they’ve always only wanted the best for him. 

So then why were they trying to separate him from Jeno?

Jaemin hasn’t been as happy as he was spending time with Jeno the past day for the past weeks, and they suddenly think it’s better if he weren’t with Jeno?

At Jaemin’s lack of response, Mark reaches out to grab the younger’s wrist, until,

“Don’t,” Jeno seethes, speaking for the first time since this whole thing started, catching Mark’s wrist before it could reach Jaemin. “Don’t make him do something he doesn’t want to.”

“I don’t think you get to talk about knowing what Jaemin wants,” Mark retaliates, admittedly hitting Jeno where it hurts. 

So Jeno lets go of Mark, because the last thing he wants to do is make Jaemin stay here when he doesn’t want to. 

But Jaemin doesn’t do anything except push himself closer to Jeno. 

“You can go,” he says to Donghyuck and Mark, sniffling through his words. He vaguely notes how they look at him with twin looks of disbelief, too focused on how hurt he feels right now. “At least Jeno has been honest with me when he had the chance. At least I knew how he felt all these years. At least he can tell me how he’s feeling honestly.”

He tries to sound mad, but he has no doubts in his mind that he just sounds sad. 

“He lied to you,” Mark scoffs, looking at him, astonished. “And you forgive him?”

“Jeno lied to me for a few months,” Jaemin says. “And then apologized, and then explained himself, and then gave me the choice to stay or not. It seems as though you guys have been lying to me for years, and then refuse to explain your sudden switch, and then want me to come back to you guys after all of that.”

Rightfully, Donghyuck and Mark don’t say anything to that, now it’s them the ones who are taken aback. 

“Till the end, you’re blind, aren’t you?” Mark finally says, looking Jaemin up and down like he was judging him. 

Jaemin flinches, but holds his ground. 

Surprisingly, it’s Jeno who holds him tight and says,

“Get out.” 

  
  
  


»«

  
  
  


“What was that?” 

“What was  _ what _ ?” 

Mark slams the door shut behind him once he gets into the car, Donghyuck slamming the driver’s side shut with equal force as he gets in. 

Donghyuck doesn’t start the car, Mark doesn’t expect him to, and they’re both left to stare out the dashboard in silence. 

Jeno doesn’t live in a bad area, right in the heart of the city. Even this late at night, the cars and people outside the parking lot are bustling, as well as the lights from business and apartment windows alike. 

Admittedly, Jeno lives in a rather nice area. An expensive one too, but last time Donghyuck or Mark had checked, Jeno had been working under a lawyer as an apprentice. He must’ve gotten promoted to be able to afford such a nice place. 

“ _ That _ ,” Mark emphasizes again, waving his hands haphazardly. “Did you have to say those things?” 

“What are you? God sent?” Donghyuck fires back, reminding Mark of his also less than friendly words. “He’s your brother and you had the audacity to say those things.”

“He’s your best friend and  _ you  _ had the audacity,” Mark counters, rendering the both of them speechless for a while after. 

“He’s making a mistake,” Donghyuck mumbles after some time, catching onto the few seconds Mark lets pass by without saying anything. “… You think so, right? That’s why we just had an argument with him over it?” 

Again, Mark lets silence draw out between them, only furthering Donghyuck’s need for an answer from him. 

“… Jeno didn’t step into the argument,” Mark mutters, now looking down at his hands in his lap instead of out the dashboard. 

“So?” Donghyuck asks, not understanding. What relevance did any of that have? And why did Mark bring it up? 

“ _ So _ , it means I don’t think we know him anymore,” he explains shortly, watching how Donghyuck’s mouth opens in a protest. Mark looks at him pointedly, effectively shutting him up as he continues to speak. “Think about it; would the Jeno you know take all the shit you were saying about him? To his face?”

Donghyuck doesn’t say anything for a while, contemplating Mark’s words. 

It’s true the Jeno he knew from a year or so ago wouldn’t take someone badmouthing him, much less when it was in front of his own face. 

He wouldn’t even take anyone badmouthing Jaemin, and it’s with reluctance that Donghyuck admits that it seemed out of character for Jeno. 

The character that he’s known. 

Not the character that Jaemin had gotten close with again over these past months, not the character that Jeno had spent developing in the six months they haven’t seen each other, not the character Jaemin chose to stay with. 

“That doesn’t mean anything,” he ends saying, watching as Mark raises an unimpressed eyebrow. 

“You and I both know that’s not true,” he mutters. Finally, Mark tears his eyes away from his lap and looks at Donghyuck, hardening his gaze. “You shouldn’t have said those things.”

“ _ You  _ shouldn’t have either,” Donghyuck immediately retaliates. If Mark was going to accuse him, he better not make himself sound like a hypocrite while doing so. 

“Okay fine,  _ we  _ shouldn’t have,” he corrects, glaring at Donghyuck. “He’s my brother.”

“He’s my best friend.”

“Jeno’s different.”

“That shouldn’t matter!”

“Why shouldn’t it matter!” Mark yells, looking at Donghyuck exasperatedly. “Why shouldn’t it matter?” He repeats. “He’s changed, he’s  _ different.  _ And it seems like a good difference too Donghyuck, he’s grown up.”

“Mark,” Donghyuck grits out, closing his eyes tight in a bout of irritation. When he looks back at the older boy, Mark swears there’s ice in his eyes. “Don’t you get it? He ruined Jaemin, not once, but twice! And what do we do? Forgive him? Like he deserves it!” 

“That’s not your decision to make,” Mark spits back, feeling heat rush up his neck in anger. He never liked how red he got when he was emotional, but there’s nothing he can do about it. 

“Then it’s not yours either!”

Silence washes over them again, their ragged breathing being the only sound in the car. 

The sky outside has turned even darker in the few minutes they’ve spent arguing, the stars shining against the sky and the neon lights and signs becoming brighter in their own way. 

Yeah.

Maybe it isn’t Donghyuck's decision to make, whether Jaemin stays with Jeno or not. That decision was only for Jaemin to make, only for Jaemin to learn from, only for Jaemin to get hurt from. 

And then, he guesses, that it also means it isn’t his decision to make.

Not as a brother, not as a stepbrother, not as a friend, and not even as family. 

Because he can have a say. 

He can always have a say. 

But at the end of the day, the decision isn’t his. 

“You said he was blind,” Donghyuck mutters, causing Mark to wince a little. 

“You said he was easy,” he counters, eliciting the same reaction from Donghyuck. 

“He kicked you out over… Him,” Donghyuck says disdainfully, as if even speaking Jeno’s name on his tongue was a curse. 

Mark understands Donghyuck holds grudges, hell does he know it, but his grudge against Jeno is particularly set in stone. 

“He was having a tough time,” Mark relents, also seeing it in the right light now that he isn’t clouded by his emotions. “A horrendous time…” 

“I still don’t like Jeno,” Donghyuck concludes, putting his seatbelt on and twisting the key into the ignition. 

Mark follows, also buckling up and watching as Donghyuck puts his foot on his pedal and backs out of their parking spot. 

“You don’t have to like him,” Mark sighs, turning to look out the window. He watches the tall skyscrapers pass, the other cars on the road, and the pedestrians walking along the streets, walking into restaurants or bars. “Only Jaemin does.”

It’s quiet for some more minutes after that, until Donghyuck breaks it again. 

“Are you mad at me?” He asks quietly as he drives, pressing on the brakes gently and taking turns slowly. Donghyuck has always been a good driver, Mark appreciates that about him. 

“Are  _ you  _ mad at  _ me _ ?”

Donghyuck briefly registers that Mark’s been doing a lot of counter repeating this conversation, but let’s it be instead of pointing it out. He’s gotten used to all of Mark’s odd tactics anyway. 

“If one of us should be mad, it’s you,” Donghyuck mumbles. 

Mark thinks about it, deciding that Donghyuck did have a point. Despite them both being close to Jaemin, their relationships with him were different. 

Donghyuck is Jaemin’s best friend. 

Mark is Jaemin’s brother. 

So instead of answering, he asks, 

“Do you still think it’s a mistake?” 

Donghyuck doesn’t really think about it, already knowing his answer. 

“Even if it is a mistake… It’s Jaemin’s mistake to make.” 

Mark decides that he isn’t too mad at Donghyuck.

  
  
  


»«

  
  
  


“I’m not mad,”

“If you’re mad… You can punch the wall, I won’t even be upset about it.” 

“But I’m  _ not  _ mad,”

“You look pretty mad,”

“I’m not.”

“Are you sure—”

“I’ll punch  _ you  _ if you ask again.”

Jeno gulps, shrinking back down into his frame and making a mental note to stop egging Jaemin on when he claims he isn’t mad… 

… Even though he is. 

“We can just go to sleep then,” Jeno suggests in a whisper, cautiously coming up behind Jaemin. He tentatively wraps his arms around the younger from behind, resting his chin on his shoulder too. 

Jaemin all but melts into Jeno’s hold. 

And then, he feels a little guilty for snapping at Jeno, when his eyes are a bit puffy and red, and when there are tear tracks on his cheeks. 

Jeno had a right to think he was mad, annoyingly enough. 

“Maybe I’m a little upset at them but… I’m not mad,” he whispers, his own hands coming down to play with Jeno’s around his waist. “They’ll figure it out, I’m sure they didn’t mean it.”

Jeno sighs behind him, pressing small kisses to his neck. It’s been so long since he’s been able to do this without feeling even an inkling of guilt, and he admits, it feels amazing. 

“You’re too kind for your own good,” he mumbles.

“I have heard that many times before,” Jaemin smiles, patting Jeno’s hands. “But I don’t think it’s true. Thank you for seeing me that way though.” 

Jeno doesn’t say anything, just sways the both of them around the space in the living room. There’s no music, but Jeno uses the beat of their hearts to step rhythmically, slowly intertwining his hands with Jaemin’s. 

“Do you still have mine?” Jaemin whispers after some time, and Jeno doesn’t know what he’s talking about until he feels the younger stroking over his fourth finger, running over his ring. 

Jeno smiles, though he knows Jaemin can’t see it. 

“Why wouldn’t I?” 

“Because I threw them at you,” Jaemin says solemnly, wincing at the memory. “Not my proudest moment.” 

“That’s alright,” the other boy dismisses, letting go of Jaemin and grabbing onto his hand instead. “Come on, it’s in my drawer.” 

Jeno leads them the short distance from the living room to his bedside table, rummaging through his sock drawer until his hand meets the bottom. 

Jeno can’t tell you an exact reason why he kept the ring hidden away from sight, but maybe it was exactly for that reason. 

When it was hidden away, Jeno didn’t have to think about it, didn’t have to think about how Jaemin did throw them at him and leave him heartbroken. 

But now that Jaemin is by his side again, holding his hand and sleeping in his bed, he doesn’t care that he has to see the ring again, relive the memory again. 

Because Jaemin is with him now, and nothing can change that. 

Jeno hopes nothing can change that. 

He fishes the small box out of his drawer eventually, holding it up triumphantly. 

“Sit down,” he tells Jaemin, pushing him gently towards the bed. He looks confused, but he lets himself sit down onto the bed nonetheless. 

Suddenly bashful with Jaemin’s undivided attention on him, Jeno feels a flush crawl up onto his cheeks. 

He figured he didn’t have a reason to be shy in front of Jaemin anymore, but it’s moments like these which prove him wrong. 

Jeno thinks he’ll always get this nervous and sweaty in front of Jaemin. 

With a deep breath, Jeno gets down on one knee. 

He expects Jaemin to be confused, but when he finally musters up enough courage to look up at him, he’s simply raising an eyebrow, a bit amused. Jeno can still see the telltale signs of a smile on his face though, so he doesn’t feel as intimidated as he could’ve. 

“I made a lot of promises,” he starts, opening up the box with shaky fingers. Jeno didn’t bother taking the ring off of the chain Jaemin kept it on, simply opting to add the new ring he had given Jaemin for his birthday onto it. 

Now though, he unclasps the necklace and slides both rings off, holding the newest one out to Jaemin first. 

“I also broke a lot of promises,” he admits regretfully, and although he tried to mask the bittersweet tone to his voice, he doesn’t think it worked. “I don't know how reliable my new promises will be, I don’t know if I should even promise you anything anymore,” he whispers, sending Jaemin a sad and small smile. “Maybe I ruined promises for both of us.”

He doesn’t know where this is going, this wasn’t planned at all, but he can’t stop the world vomit from spilling out of his throat. 

Jaemin looks like he’s going to say something, but Jeno doesn’t let him, clearing his throat and softly grabbing his right hand. 

“So I won't make any new promises,” he whispers again, slowly sliding the ring onto Jaemin’s right fourth finger. “I’ll just work really hard on keeping all the ones I’ve made.” 

Jaemin looks back down at Jeno with a small smile on his face, admiring the ring for a moment before speaking. 

“I don’t think that’ll be too hard,”

Jeno moves on to pick up the other ring from the box, frowning a little at the sight of it. 

This ring went through too much. 

Through false realities, broken promises and one hell of a fight. 

But Jeno guesses that’s what makes it special too.

It’s not just a ring anymore. 

It’s a symbol of their relationship and everything they’ve had to go through, together and alone. 

Jeno hopes Jaemin can be proud to wear it, as proud as he is to wear his. 

“This one,” Jeno starts softly, looking over the ring once more before looking up at Jaemin. “We should apologize to this one.” 

Jaemin laughs, and Jeno is glad they can both laugh about it now. 

“Sorry,” Jaemin says to the ring, though Jeno can see him trying to not laugh. “For throwing you. It hurt didn’t it?” 

Obviously, Jaemin doesn’t get a response, but Jeno still finds it endearing. 

“I’m sorry too,” Jeno says, though he isn’t looking at the ring. 

Rather, he’s looking at Jaemin. 

“It hurt didn’t it?” He continues, and Jaemin is able to pinpoint regret as clear as day in his eyes. “But I guess that’s what happens sometimes, when you’re young and stupid,” Jeno laughs dryly, though Jaemin can tell hes trying to bring humour to make the situation light. 

“You’re not stupid,” Jaemin tries to console but Jeno just shakes his head. 

“But I think we have a lot of memories together, held together by his ring,” he continues. “Do you remember the first time I proposed?”

Jaemin’s breath hitches at that, but he still does his best to answer Jeno without stalling too much time. 

Of course he still remembers the first time Jeno proposed. 

It replayed in his mind for the past few weeks. 

“Yeah,” he whispers, and Jaemin is looking at him so tenderly, Jeno wonders if he’s even deserving of it. “Similar to right now.” 

Jeno smiles, and looks up at Jaemin the same way a puppy would to their owner. 

“I wanted to give you everything,” Jeno continues, fingers shaking slightly as he holds the ring up. “I  _ still  _ want to give you everything. I want to fulfill all my promises, I want to be there for you at all times, and I want to build and achieve a life with you.”

Jaemin’s heart is beating faster than he ever thought possible, and dare he say, faster than it was when Jeno was proposing for the first time. 

He doesn’t know what it is, but seeing Jeno on one knee in front of him, ready to slip a ring onto his finger for the fourth time just ignites something indescribable inside of him. 

“So I’ll ask you again, with the intention of keeping my words, Na Jaemin. Will you marry me?” 

And he’s already answered this question before, Jeno has already asked this question before, but he still feels like it’s the first time all over again. 

Sweaty palms and irregular heartbeats, stuttered breathing and glassy eyes. 

Just like the first time, Jaemin’s answer comes just as easy,

“Yes Jeno. I’ll marry you.”

So he thinks that even though everything they’ve been through, not much had changed since the very beginning. 

  
  
  


Packing his life up in boxes for the second time is easier than the first time, Jeno thinks when he’s taping his last box shut. 

His apartment is now mostly bare, save for the bigger pieces of furniture. 

But it’s not like he’d be needing those anyway. 

Jaemin’s bed is more comfortable, they did pick it out together, after all. 

Realizing that Jeno is going back to the life he handpicked with Jaemin, the life they had designed together, makes butterflies go wild in his stomach. 

It’s beyond words, how happy he is to start fresh, sort of, with the love of his life, to go back to how they started; in that house, under that roof, in that bed. 

The more Jeno thinks about it, the more memories the house holds. It was the first place they moved into together, the place where he proposed, and the place which holds an insane amount of memories in the forms or trinkets, decoration pieces and pictures. 

Jeno is practically buzzing as he gives his apartment a final once over, knowing he won’t miss it as he snags the keys off of the kitchen counter and walks out, without another glance back. 

He didn’t know it could be so refreshing, stepping out and knowing he’ll never return to what once was his home. 

More than ever now, Jeno knows that home isn’t always a place, because in his case, home is, and always will be, Jaemin. 

“Hey,” Jaemin smiles, walking up to Jeno from the elevator. He had been taking boxes down as well, thankfully they all fit in their two cars. A moving truck would’ve been a big deal anyway. “Is that the last one?” 

“Yeah,” Jeno answers, showing his keys. “I’ll just drop these off and then we can start driving?” 

“You seem way too excited to leave,” Jaemin notes, pressing the elevator button for Jeno; his hands are full anyway. “Aren't you sad to leave this behind?” 

Jeno already knows his answer, but he still looks at Jaemin for a while, making the latter think that he’s thinking about it. 

Jaemin looks cute today, a simple pair of track pants and an oversized t-shirt for the sunny yet cool September weather, and he has a pair of rose tinted sunglasses placed atop of his head as well. His blue hair is so faded to the point where it’s almost a silvery colour, but Jeno still thinks it looks lovely. 

How could Jeno be sad about leaving a skeleton of the life he tried to mimic, when he’ll be able to look at this boy everyday for the rest of his life? 

“Not sad at all,” Jeno smiles, reaching to pinch Jaemin’s cheek lightly. “I tried to make it homey but… Very clearly, there was someone missing.” 

Jeno can see a pink hue climb onto Jaemin’s cheeks, and it's to the latter’s luck that the elevator doors open right then. Jaemin scurries into the elevator, as if that’d hide what Jeno already saw. 

Nonetheless, he doesn’t say anything about it, and they fall into an easy conversation about how long moving back in will take, and where Jeno’s things should go back at the house. 

After piling their last box into Jaemin’s car, Jeno heads to return his apartment key, never looking back as he makes it back outside. 

Unfortunately, they separate into their respective cars, and drive the somewhat quick twenty minutes to Jaemin’s house. 

Well, now it’s back to being  _ their  _ house, and Jeno just has to get used to it. 

Jeno follows behind Jaemin, and before they know it, they’re hauling everything into the house, lining the hallways and living room with cardboard boxes. 

Strangely, Jeno is reminded of not just one time, but two. 

The first time they moved in, and the first time he moved out. 

As they spend the rest of the afternoon unpacking and fitting Jeno’s belongings into place like there's always been a designated spot for them, Jeno accepts that he and Jaemin will never be conventional. 

  
  
  


“Rice, soy sauce and egg?” Jeno asks, though he can’t hide the grin on his face as he sits down at the dining table. “It’s been ages since I’ve had this.”

“I’m pretty sure a few weeks don't translate to ages, but whatever helps you sleep at night,” Jaemin sighs fondly, setting down two bowls and two spoons. He heads back into the kitchen for a while, just to bring out two clean glasses to place on the circular tray, which is already holding a water jug. 

“You still use this,” Jeno says quietly, smiling gently at the tray. It’s one he picked out, because he's the one with the habit of drinking water throughout the day, slowly roping Jaemin into his habits too.

“What can I say, I’m a hydrated man,” Jaemin teases, seeming to not understand what Jeno was trying to say. It’s okay though, Jeno just sees it as an opportunity to put new meaning into their old habits. 

Something he is very much looking forward to. 

“Eat up,” Jaemin says once he’s sitting down, already spooning food into his mouth. “We spent the whole day moving around, I’m ready to knock out.”

Jeno chuckles, but follows Jaemin and starts eating too. 

Just like always, Jaemin’s cooking tastes amazing, and Jeno makes sure to tell Jaemin as much as they eat their meals. 

“I want to do something,” Jaemin announces when they’re both done eating. He sets his spoon down and takes his eyes over the dining table, before looking back at Jeno. “Sit here, I’m gonna get my camera,” he says, getting up from his chair. “Seriously, don’t move.”

So Jeno doesn’t make any advances to move, just watches Jaemin disappear up the stairs fondly and finishes whatever is left in his bowl. 

Jaemin comes back quickly, holding his camera in hand like promised. He’s fiddling with the buttons and dials, and Jeno watches, without a clue towards what he could be adjusting. 

“Okay,” Jaemin cheers, reaching for Jeno’s hand. Jeno’s left hand, with the ring on it. “Place this here, keep your fingers together, curl your hand up naturally,” Jaemin instructs, and Jeno follows blindly. He doesn’t know what he’s doing, but Jaemin seems okay with it and it’s cute. 

Jaemin then places his own left hand underneath Jeno’s, just until his second knuckle is tucked away. 

Jeno seems to understand what’s going on when Jaemin plays with adjusting their hands, until both their rings are visible and their hands look relaxed. 

“Maybe you think it’s unnecessary,” Jaemin mumbles, keeping his eyes looking through the camera. “Since we already have so many pictures of our rings.”

He’s not wrong, there are multiple pictures of their rings scattered around the house, whether it be them holding hands or just their rings against a plain background. 

Jeno is about to say that it isn’t unnecessary, just another visual anecdote, but Jaemin continues speaking before he can. 

“But one day, we’ll be old and grey, Jeno,” Jaemin whispers, twisting a dial ever so slightly on the camera. “We’ll be wrinkly and we won’t remember everything from our youth,” he continues, pressing his finger down on the shutter button. “And when we’re side by side and forgetful, we can come up with our own memories with these pictures.” And then, Jaemin takes the photo, and Jeno’s heart stutters in his chest. 

“Na Jaem,” Jeno breathes out, not letting Jaemin even look at the picture before he takes his face in his hands. “I’m so in love with you.”

Jaemin startles at first, but then easily melts into Jeno’s touch. 

“Where did this come from?” He asks softly, gently placing his camera down onto the table. 

“Can’t I just say it?” Jeno counters, to which Jaemin shrugs, leaning in and pecking the older boy’s lips once. 

“Say it all you’d like, we have a lifetime to make sure we never forget.”

And Jeno says it again and again that night, in more ways than one. 

  
  
  


The first morning back to waking up in Jaemin’s arms, in their bed, their room, their house, feels extremely refreshing to Jeno. 

It’s like coming back home after a long flight, it’s like sleeping in a bed after camping. 

It’s everything Jeno wants for the rest of his life. 

“Good morning,”

Jeno turns around at the greeting, seeing Jaemin’s face which is majorly covered by the blankets, only tufts of his hair and his eyes pop out. His cheek is squished against the pillow, and he looks adorable from here. 

“Good morning,” Jeno greets back, adjusting his position until he’s mirroring Jaemin. “How’d you sleep?” 

Jaemin pretends to think about it, his big and doe-like sparkly eyes raking all over Jeno’s face. From his mussed up hair to his tired eyes, his nose to his marked up neck, his collarbones to his bare chest. 

“Good,” he settles on answering, looking back up to Jeno’s eyes. “Always the best with you.” 

Jeno doesn’t say anything for a few seconds after that, until his eyes catch something behind Jaemin. 

“Is that… Me?” 

Jaemin turns his head around slowly at Jeno’s question, following his gaze and landing on the tiny photo frame, maybe two inches by three inches, and finds heat crawling onto his cheeks. 

It’s too early for this. 

“Yeah,” he mumbles, snuggling deeper into the warmth of the blankets, but it’s more so in an attempt to hide his red cheeks. 

“Explain?” Jeno asks smugly, though Jaemin can also tell he's genuinely curious. 

So Jaemin sucks it up, because Jeno is his fiancé, and there’s no need to be embarrassed. 

“When you left— When I kicked you out,” Jaemin corrects, cringing at the mention. Jeno doesn’t say anything, just sends his fiancé a gentle smile. “I went through some boxes and stuff, little things that reminded me of you.”

“Why would you do that?” Jeno frowns, one of his hands coming up to brush Jaemin’s hair out of his eyes. And because he likes the way the strands feel soft between his fingers. 

“Because I missed you,” Jaemin whispers, making a wary face. “I missed you a lot, and I wanted to feel like you were by my side again.” 

Jeno’s heart cracks a little inside his chest, and his hand stops in Jaemin’s hair. 

He knew he’d always feel guilty about the later part of their relationship, but having his guilt smack him straight up in the face was a wake up call. 

They both hurt each other  _ a lot.  _

Before Jeno can apologize for the nth time, it’s right on the tip of his tongue, Jaemin continues to talk. 

“And I found a photo book from university,” he explains, leaning a bit up into Jeno’s hand, silently asking him to continue with his ministrations. 

Jeno does without a word. 

“Flipped through a few of them, and found that one,” he says, referring to the frame Jeno had been looking at. “It was from our first Christmas as a couple and it… Made me really happy. Reminded me of our simpler times together.”

Jeno's face crumbles, and Jaemin catches onto it. 

He didn’t tell this story to make Jeno feel bad, he just wanted to answer his question. 

“But what’s the fun with being so simple?” Jaemin asks gently with a little nose scrunch, expressing his distaste. “I’m glad we found each the way we did. It builds character, no?” 

Jeno has to scoff at that, catching onto Jaemin’s playful lilt. 

“So much character,” he sighs, glancing back at the photo before looking at Jaemin. “That Christmas was a lovely time,” he admits.

“Yeah. You kissed me under every mistletoe available,” Jaemin laughs, bright and beautiful, and Jeno  _ knows  _ he’ll never get tired of such a sight. 

“Couldn’t help myself,” Jeno winks. “You looked irresistible in that ugly Christmas sweater.”

Jaemin giggles again at this, bringing one of his hands out to half heartedly smack Jeno’s chest. 

“You said you liked that sweater,” he whines with a pout, though deep down, he knows the sweater was atrocious. He’s surprised Jeno didn’t mind being seen in public with him. 

“Well I wouldn’t want to make you upset,” the older boy says like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “And anyway, you did look lovely. No matter what you’re wearing, you look amazing.” 

Jaemin turns red again, shocked by the sudden, genuine compliment in the midst of their teasing. 

“That’s enough cheese for today,” Jaemin mumbles, pulling the blanket over his head, hiding away. 

Jeno thinks he’s the cutest. 

Before either of them can say anything else though, the sound of the doorbell ringing resonates through the house. 

“Not it,” Jaemin immediately yells, throwing the blankets off of him just to show Jeno that he already has his finger on his nose. 

Jeno just looks at him, unimpressed. 

“Brat,” Jeno mutters, nonetheless peeling the blankets off of him and picking up random clothes from the floor to slip into. 

“You love me!” Jaemin laughs when Jeno slips out the door, unable to see the way Jeno shakes his head. 

“Unfortunately,” he mumbles fondly, trotting down the steps just as the doorbell rings for the second time. 

Jeno doesn’t bother for his appearance as he opens the door, strangers are strangers and it's not like anyone impressionable would be here to see Jaemin. 

When Jeno opens the door, he blanks for a moment.

“My gut feeling told you’d be here. Sometimes, I hate my gut.” 

_ Donghyuck and Mark.  _

  
  
  


Jeno all but runs back up the stairs after letting Donghyuck and Mark inside, shutting the bedroom door and frantically looking around for Jaemin. 

When he doesn’t see the younger in bed or around the room, he makes a noise of distress in the back of his throat and hurriedly opens the door to the bathroom, the only other place he can be.

The water from the shower is running, and Jeno doesn’t even bother taking his clothes off before he opens the curtains slightly and steps right in.

“What— Jesus, Jeno!” Jaemin yelps, clutching his chest as he tries to regulate his breathing. His eyes are wide and he looks like he was seconds away from a heart attack, but the only thing Jeno can think of are the two boys sitting in their living room. “You’re wearing your clothes? Jeno—”

“Jaemin,” he cuts off, the sudden weight of what just happened in the last five minutes dawning on him. Realistically, Jaemin should be more distressed than he is about the fact that Donghyuck and Mark are inside their house, but Jeno feels distressed over the fact that he doesn’t know what they’re going to say this time. 

Plus, Donghyuck already made it known that he didn’t really expect Jeno to be here, even though he kind of somewhat did. Jeno doesn’t think about it too much, Donghyuck was weird and interesting like that, but it still makes him somewhat anxious. 

“Well, are you gonna say something?” Jaemin asks after a prolonged moment of silence passes between them. He looks at Jeno weirdly, wondering what’s up since he wasn’t being this aloof ten minutes ago. What could’ve changed in such a short time? “Who was at the door?” 

“Nana, Donghyuck and Mark are here,” Jeno says in one breath.

Jaemin looks at him, at the way Jeno looks ridiculous with his clothes wet and sopping off of his body, with the way his hair falls into his eyes and how big his puppy-like eyes are. 

But despite how ridiculous he looks, Jaemin knows he isn’t lying about Donghyuck and Mark being here. 

“What?” Jaemin gapes, not expecting to confront the other two this soon. Sure, it’s been a bit over a week since their… Altercation, but Jaemin hasn’t been thinking about them, more focused on getting Jeno packed up and moved back in with him. “What do they want?” 

Rightfully, Jaemin belatedly realizes, Jeno shrugs his shoulders. 

“I don’t know,” he says, finally making a move to take his drenched clothes off. He realizes how stupid he was for stepping into the shower without a second thought, but what’s done is done. 

“Okay, well,” Jaemin breathes out, shakily, suddenly hit with the reality that the confrontation was right here, in his house. “I’ll go see them. You can shower.”

“We should go together—”

“As lovely as that sounds,” Jaemin cuts off, handing Jeno a loofah. “They’re more mad at me than you, honey.”

Defeated, because Jaemin isn’t necessarily wrong, Jeno lets him go easily. 

“Good luck,” he jokes, earning a playful salute from the younger. 

“Thanks. I’ll need it.” 

And then, Jaemin disappears into their bedroom, leaving Jeno in the shower where he can only hope things run smoothly for him. 

Jaemin gets dressed quickly, not wanting to make Donghyuck and Mark wait any longer than they already have been. Plus, if things go south, the sooner Jaemin can be done with this and eat breakfast like nothing happened. 

As he makes his way down the stairs, he already feels Donghyuck and Mark’s eyes on him. 

It’s with tentative steps that he walks into the living room, choosing to send the both of them a little smile in lieu of a greeting. He doesn’t really know how to form coherent words for them right now. 

“Good morning,” Mark says quietly, prompting Jaemin to look at him for the first time. 

In all honesty, he looks tired. Like he hasn’t had a good night’s sleep in a while, if his ghostly pale skin and eye bags are anything to go by. 

Jaemin would ask about it if their circumstances were different. 

“Morning,” he says back gently instead, hesitantly turning his gaze to look at Donghyuck. He doesn’t forget everything Donghyuck has said to him, every hurtful thing, but he doesn’t want to seem like he isn’t willing to hear him out. Even if he’s upset, he doesn’t like keeping grudges for too long. “Good morning, Donghyuck.”

“… Good morning.” 

An uncomfortably long silence passes between them, until Donghyuck clears his throat and breaks it. 

“Jeno moved back in…” He says.

Jaemin stiffens a little at the mention of Jeno, but tries not to show it and just nods his head instead. 

“Yeah, last night,” he confirms, drumming his fingers on his thigh so he can think about _ anything _ other than their looks on him. 

“Look, Jaemin—” Donghyuck starts, at the same time Mark says,

“We’re sorry.” 

Well. Jaemin figured that much. 

Either way, he frowns. 

He’s not that  _ easy,  _ despite whatever they think, and he won’t let them get away with a half assed apology. 

“It wasn't our place,” Mark continues, looking at Jaemin with his eyes full of feeling that Jaemin almost feels bad for working his brother up this much. “To say the things we did, to make you feel the way we did when you were just trying to live your life.” 

“And I really stepped out of my lane,” Donghyuck continues, a regretful and embarrassed smile on his lips. Jaemin knows more than to think he’s actually amused. “You’re my best friend dude. Didn’t know why I thought I had a say.”

Jaemin still doesn’t say anything, picking at his cuticles instead of looking at the two boys in front of him. 

“Not to make you feel bad or anything…” Jaemin starts. “But you're literally my brother and best friend. Why would you say those things if you didn’t mean them?” 

Mark sucks in a sharp breath at that, looking over to Donghyuck, who has his lips pursed into a thin line. 

“We didn’t mean them,” Mark says quietly. “Try to understand that we were confused and hurt, Jaemin. You cry and scream about hating Jeno but you still go back to him when we offer our arms for you instead.” 

“We didn’t mean them,” Donghyuck repeats, firmly. “But it’s confusing when you send me home just to meet Jeno. You could’ve told me… Yeah, I wouldn’t have liked it, but I wouldn’t have stopped you. At the end of the day, they’re your mistakes.” 

Jaemin’s eyebrow twitches at that. 

“Mistake? Don’t call Jeno a mistake,” he says defensively, to which Donghyuck shakes his head. 

“That’s not what I meant. It’s a metaphor or whatever.”

Silence passes through them, until Jaemin speaks up again. 

He can somewhat see Mark and Donghyuck’s perspectives. He’s never been in that situation, so he doesn’t completely understand, but he can see why it’d be a concern. Or a confusion. Or something alarming. 

But that doesn’t…

“I’m not a burden,” he says. “I  _ am  _ grateful for you taking care of me, but I’m not a burden. Not some chore, Donghyuck. I trust you, that’s why I like it when you’re there. But if you can’t see that…” 

Donghyuck catches onto what Jaemin is implying, and his eyes widen. Jaemin would find it comical if the situation they were in wasn’t something important. 

“I know,” Donghyuck says frantically. “I know and I appreciate you letting me in. Let’s just please forget everything that night, we were all pretty stupid.”

Mark sighs and nods his head, and since at the end of the day, Jaemin can’t hold grudges against the two people who love him the most in this world, he relents.

Maybe they won’t go back to how they were already, but Jaemin is willing to make that a process, if that means that at the end of it, he gets his brother and best friend back. 

And himself, of course. 

“Did you wanna stay for breakfast?” Jaemin asks, already sitting up from the couch so that he can make his way to the kitchen. Regardless of if they were staying or not, Jaemin is starving. 

“We actually have an appointment,” Mark says, looking apologetic as he casts Jaemin a glance. 

“Hm? For what? Dentist, doctor?” Jaemin asks as he nods. 

“… A house showing.” 

Jaemin slows down his hands digging through the fridge, but he doesn’t turn around to face them.

“Congratulations,” he ends up saying, finally turning to look at them. “I’m happy for you guys.” 

The three of them look at each for a few prolonged seconds, until they all simultaneously break out into grins. 

“Thanks, Jaemin.” 

  
  
  


Once Donghyuck and Mark have left, Jaemin locks the door behind them and sighs, standing in the middle of the foyer with his hands on his hips. 

“You can come out of hiding now,” he yells, to which he immediately hears footsteps pattering against the stairs. 

“How’d you know?” Jeno pouts, stepping into the kitchen with Jaemin and helping him prepare their breakfast. “I was looking out for you. What if they said something stupid again? I couldn’t stand it if you shed another tear.” 

“That’s cute,” Jaemin smiles, patting Jeno’s shoulder as he walks past him. “But you can’t hide your coughs at all, babe.”

Jeno’s shoulder slouch down, defeated. 

They don’t say much as they dance around each other in the kitchen, Jeno trying to help more than he actually is. Jaemin appreciates the effort though, so he doesn’t complain at all. 

It’s cute, when Jeno thinks he’s doing more than he actually is. 

And Jaemin wouldn’t want to burst that bubble of the older boy’s. 

Jaemin and Jeno eat in a comfortable silence as well, until the doorbell rings again. 

Jeno makes a confused sound, the one that Jaemin finds ridiculously endearing, and looks at the door. 

“Who’s there?” He mumbles, making way to get up. 

“I’ll get it,” Jaemin says, springing up before Jeno can. “I think I know what it is.”

“How does he know what it is?” Jeno asks himself as he watches Jaemin go to the front door. He doesn’t hear any greetings, doesn’t hear anything except for the door opening and closing, but then when Jaemin comes back into his view, he’s holding a cardboard box. 

“Jen, can you please clean up while I open this? It’s something for the both of us,” Jaemin asks, and his eyes look too sparkly for Jeno to even think about saying no. 

“Sure,” he easily agrees, earning a brilliant smile from the younger. 

Jeno cleans up quietly, washing dishes and leaving them to dry on the rack. He makes his way out of the kitchen to find Jaemin, only to see the younger sitting down in the middle of the hallway, the box from earlier between his legs and a picture frame sitting next to him. 

“Do you just have those lying around?” Jeno asks, pointing to the photo frame. He takes a seat next to Jaemin, holding the frame between his fingers. 

“Ordered them in bulk a while back,” Jaemin answers, taking something out of the box. “Look Jeno,”

So Jeno looks, and finds himself intrigued by the photo Jaemin took last night staring back at him, except this time it’s printed and blown up to be eight inches by nine inches. 

“When did you order this?” Jeno asks, admiring the picture but still confused towards when and how he got it. 

“Bit after taking it, that’s what I was doing in the office,” Jaemin says, delicately placing the photo down on the protective film it came wrapped in. “It didn’t take too long.”

“Put it there,” Jeno suggests, pointing to a spot near the top of the wall, next to some of the newer photos they hung up within the last few months. 

Now that Jeno comes to think of it, they’ve added a lot of photos over the course of the past few months. 

The best part is that they all blend in seamlessly, like they were always supposed to be there since day one. 

Jeno likes to think that too. 

“That’s a good spot,” Jaemin agrees, grabbing a nail and a hammer. He then turns to Jeno. “Mr. HandyMan, this is your time to shine!” 

_ “Jeno, get the nails. You’re Mr. HandyMan, remember?”  _

It’s only been a few months since Jaemin had said those words to him, but they still ring loud in his ears. 

As he’s grabbing a small ladder to reach their designated spot, nail between his teeth and hammer in one hand, he’s reminded of the way he did this exact same thing a few months ago. 

It’s weird, how so much happens within a short amount of time, how much changes and how many words can be exchanged, how many looks can be shared, how many kisses can be given, within that span of time. 

Jeno thinks, as he gets ready to hammer the nail into the wall, that this time, he’s happy to help. 

And the next time too. 

And the next,

And the next,

And the next… 


End file.
